


Dies Irae

by BlackUnicorn



Series: The Story Of My Life [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angry Sam Winchester, Angst, Awesome Bobby Singer, Awesome Ellen Harvelle, Awesome Jo Harvelle, BAMF Castiel (Supernatural), Back to the Basics, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Brotherly Bonding, But different, Canon Rewrite, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Case Fic, Castiel (Supernatural) is Not Oblivious, Castiel and Dean Winchester Use Their Words, Dean Winchester Talks About Feelings, Depressed Dean Winchester, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Flashbacks, Fluff, Human Castiel (Supernatural), Hunter Adam Milligan, Hunter Castiel (Supernatural), Hunter Dean Winchester, Hunters & Hunting, Hurt/Comfort, John Winchester Being an Asshole, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Kinda, M/M, Married Sam Winchester, Multi, Protective Bobby Singer, Protective Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester Makes Mistakes, Season/Series 01, Season/Series 02, Secret Relationship, Sorry Jess, Supernatural Elements, Swearing, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-16 00:27:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 48,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18510205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackUnicorn/pseuds/BlackUnicorn
Summary: After several years of not talking to his brother, Dean gets a mysterious phone call in the middle of the night - Sammy. His brother needs help and it seems like the Demon they had grown up Hunting is back and Dean would be damned if he didn't move Heaven and Hell to make sure his little brother is okay.With fellow Hunter and boyfriend Cas in tow, Dean goes to see Sam, but that is only the beginning of a much larger game that Dean never wanted to play in the first place.





	1. Long Way From Home

**Author's Note:**

> 'Dies Irae' is Latin meaning 'Day of Wrath' and taken from a Medieval poem about the Last Judgement.
> 
> Now, this whole story is kind of a re-write of the original thing...I remember re-watching season 1 and thinking, "what if Cas was there as a Hunter and Dean's boyfriend?" so I started writing and this happened and I completely forgot about it until I found it a few days ago. This part is completely finished but I might write a second and third part...got the notes and everything and I tried to start on part two but its being very uncooperative and stubborn...anyway, enjoy.

“Honey, I’m home!” Dean called out as soon as he entered the motel room.

Cas was lying on the bed, buried in some old book. “Hello, Dean,” he greeted without looking up.

“What’ya reading?”

“Book on North Mythology. Bobby called, he said there might be something in Utah that looks like human sacrifices.”

“Why’d he call _you_?”

“Well, it appears he likes me better than you,” the dark-haired man said and smirked at the pages.

“Bite me,” Dean muttered but there was no malice behind it and Cas laughed.

“With pleasure,” he answered.

Dean sat down next to Cas and propped his chin up on the man’s shoulder to get a better look at the book.

“You okay?” Cas asked casually and Dean hummed in agreement; he was fine, although tired. They hadn’t exactly slept much during the past few days because of that fricking Poltergeist in Denver. Finally, Cas closed the book and leaned his head against Dean’s. It was only a small gesture but all the same strangely intimate and Dean found himself smiling stupidly.

“What?”

“I think you promised to bit me…”

“You really need to work on your pick-up lines,” Cas chuckled but he still laid the book aside and shifted so that he faced Dean.

“Don’t need to pick you up, though, do I? You’re already here.”

“This is true.”

The first kiss was lazy and sloppy, while Cas practically climbed into Dean’s lap and slung his arms around the other man’s shoulders.

“You gonna make good on that promise?” Dean whispered.

“Dean?”

“Huh?”

“Shut up.”

The obligatory ‘make me’ was cut off when Cas claimed his mouth once again, rougher this time. Dean let out a soft moan when he felt Cas’ teeth on his lower lip and the tongue thrusting into his mouth. He was shoved against the mattress with Cas’ weight pinning him down and any possible smart comments completely ran away from him when there were callused, yet soft hands, sliding under his shirt and Cas’ mouth sucking at his neck.

* * *

 

When Dean woke up, it was dark outside and he had no idea what time it was. Cas was lying next to him, his arm draped around Dean’s chest, face buried in Dean’s neck. The Hunter was a bit confused, not sure what it was that had woken him up, when he heard it again; the buzzing of a phone. Groaning lightly, Dean reached to retrieve the offensive object from the nightstand. _Unknown caller_. Dean frowned at the screen and then decided to screw it and just take the call.

“Hello?”

“ _Dean? Dean?_ ”

“Who is –”

_“Dean!”_

“Sam?” Dean exclaimed in utter disbelief. God…how long had it been? 7 years? 8? “What’s going on, man?”

“ _She – Jess – she –_ ” his little brother stuttered, his voice near hysterical and Dean could hear him breathing too fast and too shallow, “ _Oh god! She’d dead. Dean, she – she’s dead. It killed her_.”

“What killed her? What happened, Sammy?”

“ _The Demon. Dean. It killed her_.”

For a second, just one second, Dean wanted to ask what Demon, except he already knew, didn’t he? There was just one Demon out there that could make his brother react like that. The world kind of tipped, then, and time seemed to stop as Dean’s blood froze in his veins –

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

\- and then, with a violent jerk, everything fell back into place and Dean out of bed.

“Where are you?” he barked out, blindly grapping every item in his reach and stuffing it into his duffle bag as Sam told him the address.

“Dean?” came Cas’ groggy voice from the bed but Dean ignored him in favour of throwing on some clothes.

“Okay,” he said into the phone, “Sammy! Sammy listen to me, I’m on my way, okay? Just…stay where you are.”

“Dean? Wha’s going on?”

Dean ended the call and while before everything had seemed too slow, now it was too fast, the room was spinning around him and Dean with it. He saw Cas’ shirt carelessly thrown on the floor, a single sock hanging from the lamp on the bedside table, a half drunken beer next to the book Cas had been reading the previous night.

“Dean!” Cas said for the third time, sounding much more alert now and sitting up in the bed, the duvet pooling around his waist.

Feeling numb, Dean slowly turned around to face him fully and ran a hand over his face into his hair, tugging lightly.

“Sam –” he started, gulping audibly, “That was Sam.”

“Sam?” Cas repeated, “Your brother Sam?”

Dean nodded.

“What happened, Dean?”

“I don’t know. But I gotta go get him.”

“Okay,” Cas said, slowly getting out of bed and walking towards Dean, “Okay. Sit down, take a few deep breaths. I’ll pack up and get dressed and then we can go.”

“Cas, you don’t gotta –“

“Dean,” Cas cut in, “Sit down. Breathe.”

Again, Dean nodded. _Okay_ , he though, _breathe. I can do that_.

It only took about ten minutes to get everything to the car and Dean was just about to get behind the wheel when the brunet stopped him. “I don’t think you should drive right now, Dean,” Cas told him, his voice leaving no room for argument, “You’re upset and you’re not going to be any help to Sam if you drive off the road in the dark.”

He was right, of course. Dean hated it when Cas was right.

So in the end it was Cas sitting in the driver’s seat of the ’76 Chevy Impala and Dean slumped against the window next to him, trying to stave off the horror scenarios playing in his mind. What if Sam was hurt too? What if he did something stupid while waiting for Dean? What if –

“Talk to me, Dean,” Cas interrupted his train of thoughts, “Tell me about Sam. He went to Stanford, yes?”

Dean nodded, “Yeah,” he croaked out, “Fucking nerd. Just up and left when he was 18, leaving me an’ dad behind…

 

_It was a Saturday and Dean slept in late. He had spent the night at the bar, trying to chat up the waitress. It had remained with the attempt. He just had crawled out of bed when he heard loud voices._

_“You wanna tell me what this is?” That was John. Dean didn’t know their dad would be home. Last time they had heard from him, he had been a few towns over, Hunting a Spirit of some sort._

_“It’s a letter, dad,” Sam answered._

_“Yes, I can see that. Why does it say Stanford University?” John sounded angry. Really angry._

_“Well, cause it’s probably from them.” Dean could practically hear the bitchface Sam was very likely doing right then._

_“Don’t give me that attitude boy.”_

_“Or what? What’ya gonna do? I’m 18, dad, I can do what I want.”_

_“Oh, and you wanna go to college? Is that it?”_

_“Yeah, maybe it is.”_

_“Now don’t give me that bullshit, Sam. You ain’t going anywhere. You’ll stay with us, period.”_

_“No, dad. You can’t tell me what to do. I’m going to Stanford, I’m going to get a degree and I’m going to have a normal life!”_

_“A normal life? There’s nothing normal about you Sam! You’re a Hunter, you belong with us not them!”_

_“I don’t want to be a Hunter! Why won’t you get that?! I never did, but you didn’t leave us a choice.”_

_“Because there is no choice! It’s our job to protect people!”_

_“Well then maybe I want to be people. I’m done with this, dad. Always moving around, never staying in one place longer than a couple of weeks, never knowing what might be tomorrow.” And, god, he sounded so tired. Dean almost felt physically ill, listening to his brother._

_“You stay here. That’s an order,” John barked and Dean decided to finally get out of the bed. He saw his brother and father standing in the room, several feet away from each other, faces flushed with anger._

_“I don’t give a shit about your orders, dad! You hear me? I don’t care what you want, ‘cause it’s not what I want!” Sam yelled._

_“Oh, I hear you, loud and clear,” John muttered. There was an open beer bottle standing on the table and Dean saw a duffel back lying by the –_ wait what? _Dean’s eyes grew wide as he looked from the bag up to Sam. “Just know this; you walk through that door, don’t you ever come back,” their father all but growled now and Sam glared at him, eyes cold and angry._

_“Don’t worry,” Sam said, “I wasn’t planning on it.”_

_Dean watched as his brother put on his jacket and grabbed the bag, watched as he opened the door, watched as he turned around one more time, eyes fixed on Dean._

_“I’m sorry, Dean,” he said and then the door was closed and Sam was gone..._

 

“You’re still angry with him,” Cas observed. Dean had no clue how he always did that…how he always knew exactly what Dean was so pointedly not saying, reading between the lines like some freaking psychic. Not that he was…a psychic that is. Cas just knew Dean the way no one else did. And Dean? Dean knew Cas better than anyone – better than himself – so, he guessed, it went both ways.

“Maybe,” he gruntled, “What if I am?”

“Nothing,” Cas answered, “Whatever it is you’re feeling, it’s perfectly valid.”

It was almost physically painful to not roll his eyes at that, but Dean managed.

“He’s the one that fucking left.”

“And your father was the one that told him not to come back,” Cas replied calmly and Dean knew he was right. Had always known it, even on that day, but he still didn’t want to hear it. “Yeah well,” he said weakly, “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“It matters if you’re still upset about it,” Cas disagreed and even though his eyes were fixed on the road, Dean knew that Cas’ attention was on Dean, assessing him, “You think it was selfish of Sam to leave.”

“Wasn’t it?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Or maybe it doesn’t matter because doing something for yourself and yourself only without considering the impact it has on others, does not automatically mean doing something bad or wrong. Being selfish is what keeps us alive.”

Dean thought about Cas’ words for a moment; they sounded true. Dean took a deep breath – _inhale, exhale_ – calming brewing storm inside of him.

“You know,” he started, “Sam leaving is the reason we met.”

“How so?” Cas asked, clearly surprised.

“If it wasn’t for him, I would have never gone to that bar that night…Dad was in pieces…fucked off to god knows where. I just wanted to get drunk and laid.”

“You did,” Cas chuckled softly.

_Yeah_ , Dean agreed silently, _I did. And so much more…_

* * *

 

_Dean sat at the bar, a bottle of beer before him, trying to drown his thoughts._

_“You look troubled.”_

_Dean looked up and the first thing he saw were a pair of deep blue eyes looking at him, no, looking_ into _him, like the man could see his very soul._

_“Yeah, well,” Dean muttered and tried hard not to stare._

_“Mind of I join you?” the stranger asked and sat down next to Dean, “I’m Cas.”_

_“Dean,” the Hunter muttered and took another swig of his beer only to notice that it was empty._

_“Nice to meet you, Dean.” The man had a pleasant voice, deep and calm, and Dean found himself relaxing slightly and before he knew it, he had a new bottle in his hand._

_Cas turned out to be good company. He was quiet but funny, without even trying to be. They talked about everything and nothing and Dean even managed to forget about all the crap with Sam and his father and his life._

_“You wanna get out of here?” Dean asked a few beers later, putting on his most charming smile._

_Cas raised an eyebrow, “Subtlety isn’t your strength, is it?” he asked with a slight smile._

_“Is that a no?”_

_“No, I don’t think it is.”_

_“Awesome. Your place or mine?”_

_“Seeing as you are in no condition to drive, I’d say mine.”_

_Cas lived just around the corner in a similar motel to the one Dean was staying at; not that he took much notice of his surroundings…a considerate amount of alcohol and a gorgeous man by your side will do that to you. It was risky, no question. Anyone could have seen them, could have told John that his oldest son was going home with a man but Dean couldn’t care less. Not tonight._

_“So beautiful,” Cas muttered into his neck while he pushed Dean back against the door, teeth scraping against his skin._

_“Shuddup,” Dean moaned out and tried to pull off the other man’s shirt without breaking the contact. Cas really was gorgeous. He wasn’t very tall but his upper body seemed to be made out of pure muscle and there was a tattoo right over his hip bone; several small scars covering his skin._

_“Is that an order?” Cas asked with a smirk._

_“What if it was?”_

_“I don’t do orders.”_

_And with that, Dean was pushed back against the bed, his own shirt practically ripped from his chest and there were hands everywhere, sliding over his chest, pulling his hair, massaging the bulge in his jeans._

_“Oh fuck,” Dean panted and keened into the touch._

_“Hush, it’s okay. I’ll take care of you,” Cas whispered and Dean lost himself in a hazy blur of pure bliss_

* * *

 

It took them a few hours to get to the small town Sam was apparently living in now. Dean had tried calling their dad a few times but only gotten his voicemail.

_Not that I’m surprised_ , he thought bitterly.

The town itself was…idyllic. Literal white picket fences in front of picturesque houses with front gardens and judgemental neighbours.

Sam house…well…

“Jesus,” Dean muttered under his breath as he took in the burned remains of what once must have been a pretty building. Some curious onlookers were lingering before the barrier, and while the firefighters had already left, there was still a lonesome ambulance and in the ambulance was –

“Sammy!”

Not caring for anything, Dean bolted out of the car and towards his little brother who was sitting there, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, his eyes unfocused and blank.

A paramedic walked up to Dean, kept him from reaching Sam, “Are you Dean Winchester?” she asked and Dean nodded, trying once again to get past her but the gentle hand on his arm stopped him, “He’s in shock,” she explained, “Refuses to go to the hospital.”

“Let me talk to him,” Dean demanded, his mind reeling.

“He’s physically fine,” the woman went on, ignoring Dean, “But he just lost his wife and unborn child and I really recommend he sees a doctor. His burns are superficial and his lungs sound clear but still…” she trailed off, her eyes going back to the ruins of the house.

“Did you – do you –” Dean started but cut himself off. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know.

“Jess was my friend,” the paramedic answered his unasked question, “You can see your brother now.” She stepped aside and Dean immediately rushed forward. The closer he got, he heavier the weight got in his heart.

_He looks so…broken…_

“Hey, Sammy,” Dean said gently, crouching down in front of his brother who still hadn’t acknowledged him. Carefully, Dean laid a hand on Sam’s knee, squeezing lightly, “Sam.”

Slowly, almost in slow motion. Sam blinked. One. Twice. And turned his head.

“Dean?” he all but whispered.

“Yeah, Sammy, it’s me. How’re ya holding up, man?”

Again, Sam blinked. “Jess,” he croaked, his voice broke at the single syllable, shattering Dean’s heart into a million pieces.

“I know, Sammy. I know…” Without thinking about, Dean stood up and stepped closer to his brother, wrapping his arms around him, trying to shield him from a world as cruel as this, a world that would give him a wife and a child – _and sweet Jesus, I would have been an uncle_ – and then take it away from him. Sam clung to him as if Dean was his last life line, the only thing keeping him from drowning, his body shaking violently as he slung his long arms around Dean, holding him close.

Dean twisted his neck so he could see where Cas was and spotted his boyfriend still sitting in the car, observing them with an unreadable expression.

“C’mon, Sam,” Dean muttered, “The paramedic said you should see a doctor.”

Without waiting for a response, Dean helped his brother stand up and lead him to the car where they both got into the back.

“Dean?” Cas asked carefully from behind the steering wheel.

“Hospital,” Dean instructed before bringing his attention back to his brother who still seemed to be mostly out of it.

At the hospital, Cas let them get out of the car before he himself went “looking for a place to crash”; Dean wasn’t sure how he felt about the distance Cas was obviously creating but that was something he was going to deal with at a later point.

 


	2. An Echo From The Past

Cas and Dean watched from afar as Jessica was let down into her grave while her family and friends stood in front of it. Her family, and friends, and Sam.

John was still not answering his phone and at this point, all Dean wanted was to punch his father in the face.

“This is my fault, Cas,” Dean said in a low voice.

Cas turned his head in surprise. “How is this your fault?” he asked incredulously.

“Sam’s my responsibility. I should have checked up on him more often. I should have made sure he was okay.”

“Dean,” Cas began and, as always, from Cas’ lips it sounded like a prayer, a hundred words and endless conversation in one single name, “He _was_ okay. Sam was married and about to become a father and you are not to blame for any of this.”

Deep down, Dean knew Cas was right but that didn’t change the guilt he felt.

“Look at me, Dean.” It was so commanding that Dean couldn’t help but obey, he raised his head and met Cas’ gaze. “There is nothing you could have done to prevent this.”

“I know,” Dean whispered and maybe that was worse. That he knew. He spent his life saving people, Hunting the evil that was out there but he still couldn’t make a difference when it mattered. He still couldn’t protect his family.

They watched as the graveyard slowly emptied itself until only Sam remained, and Cas and Dean walked up to him. There was nothing to say, nothing that could make it better, so they stayed silent and Dean lay a hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“Come on,” he muttered softly after a while, leading Sam back to the Impala. His brother had hardly said a word since the fire, and Dean was painfully reminded that Sam hadn’t just lost his wife but also his unborn child. “We called Bobby and he said we could stay with him for a while.” What he didn’t mention was the stream of swears and curses that had left Bobby’s mouth once Dean had finished explaining. What he didn’t mention were the threats towards John that Bobby had muttered under his breath. What he didn’t mention were the tears in Dean’s eyes and Bobby’s voice as they both began to realised what Sam had lost.

While Dean was driving them back to Sioux Falls, Sam was sleeping in the back seat and Cas was silently sitting next to Dean, watching the scenery outside.

“You okay?” Dean asked after a while.

Cas turned his head to look at the other Hunter. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

“I’m fine, Cas,” Dean said, “Just…you’ve been quiet.”

“I’m uncertain what to say,” Cas answered, his fingers playing with the hem of his shirt, “You’re brother just lost a part of his family and this is the first time in years that you and your brother are in the same place…I guess I’m trying to figure where fit in in all that.”

Dean frowned at the road ahead of him. “You’re family, Cas,” he stated firmly, “You belong with me.”

“I’m family to _you_ ,” Cas corrected, “You’re brother doesn’t know me.”

“Well he’s gonna,” Dean muttered, throwing a glance into the rear-view mirror to see Sam passed out against the window, snoring lightly, “And it’s not just me,” Dean went on, “Bobby. Ellen. Jo. Ash. We’re all family”

Daring a look to his right, Dean saw the soft smile playing around Cas’ lips and the softness in his eyes. “I know, Dean.”

Giving the brunet a firm nod, Dean concentrated on the road once more and began to gently hum to the radio.

 

_You go where the wind blows, leading the life you chose_  
Your destination remains unknown  
No one to help you, nobody cares about you  
You're looking for someplace you can call home

_Lonely children on the run_   
_Lonely children need someone_

_Too many questions, you need to answer to them_   
_Your information is so incomplete_   
_You seek directions, you would be lost without them_   
_Don't let them find you lying in the street_

_Lonely children on the run_   
_Lonely children, lonely, need someone_

_Someone to talk to_   
_Someone who cares_   
_Someone who listens_   
_Is anyone there?_

_They may detest you, someday they may arrest you_   
_They stop at nothing to hold you down_   
_You need to be free, but will they ever let you?_   
_They won't be happy till you leave town_

_Lonely children on the run, run on the run_   
_Lonely children need someone, need someone_   
_Lonely children in the night, can't see the light_   
_Lonely children need a guiding light, don't forget_   
_Lonely children all alone_   
_Lonely children have no home_   
_Lonely children on the run_   
_Hope someday there'll be someone_   
_Lonely, lonely children_

* * *

 

“Come here, son.”

The second they got out of the car, Bobby enveloped Sam in his arms and for a moment it was like no time at all had passed and Dean could see his baby brother, only 18, angry and scared, standing in the arms of the man that was more of a father to them than John had ever been. Then, Sam pushed back and the illusion broke. Sam wasn’t 18 anymore. He was 25. He was a widower. He was a man that had lost everything within one night.

Without a word, Sam walked past Bobby and inside the house while the older man stayed behind, his eyes falling on Dean and Cas who were still standing by the car.

“Give him time,” Bobby told them, or rather Dean, “It ain’t easy what he went through.”

“I know, Bobby,” Dean answered and allowed Bobby to hug him as well, “I just wish I could help.”

“You can by being there for him.” They separated and then it was Cas’ turn. Dean smiled faintly at the picture of his boyfriend and his as-good-as surrogate father – two of the most important people in his life. “Cas?” Bobby asked.

“I’m okay, Bobby,” Cas answered.

Bobby gave a curt nod and the three men moved inside, sitting down in the kitchen where Bobby offered them coffee and pie. From upstairs, they could hear Sam, undoubtfully falling into the nearest bed.

“So?” Bobby started, “What exactly happened?”

“No idea,” Dean answered, taking a sip from his coffee and revelling in the bitter taste, “We’d just finished that case in Denver, you told Cas about the human sacrifices, and then Sammy called in the middle of the night saying that the Demon that killed mum was back and that it killed Jess. We hit rode and you know the rest…”

“And we’re sure it was the same thing?” Bobby questioned.

Dean shrugged, “’s not like Sam said much since it happened. The house was a ruin when we got there and Cas managed to talk to a view people at the station and they couldn’t find the source of the fire. The house was new. No way it just went up in flames for no reason.”

Nodding slowly, Bobby drank his coffee and was obviously lost in thought.

“What exactly do you know about the night your mother died?” Cas asked almost timidly. They’d never actually talked about that, just that it had happened.

“Not much,” Dean answered, “I was only 4…only thing I remember is dad yelling at me to get Sam outta there. He started Hunting after that. Thought us everything he knew but never about that Demon…whenever he had a lead he’d take off without us and wouldn’t talk about it afterwards.”

“You still haven’t heard from him?” Bobby chipped in and Dean shook his, “There’s a Psychic,” Bobby went on, “Missouri Moseley. I know that she helped your dad out quite a bit. I never met her but he trusted her.” He sipped at his coffee letting his words sink in and Dean wondered why he had never heard of this Missouri before. “Maybe she can help you,” the older man eventually finished.

Dean nodded, “Where’s she live?” he asked.

“Lawrence, Kansas.”

* * *

 

A few days later they got back on the road to pay a visit to Missouri Moseley. Sam seemed a little bit better now or maybe he just started hiding it better…Dean wasn’t all too sure. It was weird…they used to be so close, used to be able to read each other like open books, but somewhere during the past 7 years that had gotten lost and now, when Dean looked at his brother, all he saw was a stranger with little Sammy’s face.

What was also weird was coming back to their home town after 25 years. Everything seemed to be the same, yet everything had changed. Dean made sure to give their old house a wide berth but there were still memories haunting him and Dean could feel the walls he had built up with such care, crumbling. He didn’t have to look at Cas to know that he was watching Dean with great concern and somehow it made him a bit uneasy because Sam was there too and they still hadn’t talked about that, or about much of anything really, and there was still so much left unsaid.

“Alright.” Dean stopped the car and looked up at the house. “This should be it.”

They went inside and sat down in a small waiting area only to stand up seconds later when a big, elderly woman with dark skin stepped in front of them.

“Well, this certainly is a surprise,” she announced, not sounding surprised at all. “Come on then, Sam and Dean, I ain’t got all day.”

They followed her inside and she smiled at the Winchester brothers.

“You boys grew up handsome,” she remarked before her eyes shifted to Cas and narrowed, “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Excuse me?” Cas asked.

“There’s something about you, boy. You’re a long way from home and you’re not supposed to be here.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean asked protectively.

“Well I don’t know,” Missouri snapped at him, “I’m not a Magician, I might be able to read thoughts and sense energies but I can’t just pull facts out of thin air. Sit,” she ordered and completely dumbstruck, Dean did just that. “I’m sorry about your wife, Sam.”

Sam blinked, staring at the woman but said nothing.

“Do you know why we’re here?” Dean asked, trying to direct Missouri’s attention away from his brother.

“You have questions and you’re hoping I have the answers.”

“Do you?”

“I cannot tell you where your father is,” she answered and maybe Dean was imagining it but there was a hint of regret in her voice.

“And what do you know about the thing that killed mum?”

“Very little,” Missouri answered, “Your father took me to the house, hoping I could sense the energy, the echo of the thing that did it.”

“And could you?” Cas asked.

“It was pure evil.” For a second, Dean thought that he saw fear in Missouri’s eyes. “I haven’t seen your daddy since. He left shortly after that with you two, Hunting the Demon that killed his wife. The same thing that killed Jessica.” She added towards Sam whose eyes were still a bit too unfocused to Dean’s liking.

“Is there anything else you could tell us?” Dean inquired, hating how desperate his voice sounded.

“No,” Missouri answered and Dean deflated, _this is useless_ , he thought, “But I have something else that might help you.” Without any further explanation, she stood up and left the room, only to come back moments later with a book in her hands, a book that looked strangely familiar. “Don’t ask me how it got to me but I imagine John wants you have it.”

Dean took be book, barely daring to look at it but when he did he had to swallow hard. He’d been right, he knew the book.

_Dad’s Journal._

 “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, boys. And take care, there’s something dark comin’ for you. For all of you.”

Trying not to think about Missouri’s words, the three men left the house and just when they were about to get back into the car, Dean’s phone rang.

“Hello?” Dean asked, opening the driver’s door to get behind the wheel.

“ _Dean?_ ” The voice on the other end sounded young and somewhat familiar, and for a moment, Dean stopped.

“Who is this?”

_“Er – it’s Matt. Matt Pike. You and Cas helped me and my family a few years ago. Oklahoma. The bugs-thing.”_

“Of course.” Dean remembered. Of course, he remembered. “How’re ya doing Matt?”

_“I’m good but…I might need your help.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song lyrics: "Lonely Children" by Foreigner


	3. Be All My Sins Remembered

Matt had been 16, the last time Dean had seen him. Now, three years later, Dean was surprised to see how little he had changed.

“Hey Matt,” he greeted the boy who sat in a corner of a diner.

“Dean. Cas.” Matt smiled at them, before noticing Sam.

“Oh right, this is Sam, my brother,” Dean introduced them and Matt nodded. “What’s up man?” he asked and sat down, the others following his example.

Matt began fidgeting with the table cloth, he looked nervous, “It’s Alex, my boyfriend,” he whispered, “He’s missing.”

“Okay –” Dean motioned for the kid to continue.

“I already talked to the police but they said they couldn’t do anything yet. It’s weird.”

“What’s weird? What happened, Matt?” Cas asked, leaning forward slightly to give the boy his full attention.

“We went to bed last night and when I woke up this morning, he was gone. Doors were still locked, windows closed and all of his stuff was there. I know Alex, he didn’t just leave.” Matt seemed desperate now and Dean felt sorry for the boy. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know who else to call,” he muttered.

“It’s okay, Matt. I’m sure we can help you,” Cas assured him. Matt’s eyes immediately lit up with hope and Dean had to supress a smile; on their last case, Cas had had a strong understanding of Matt, a far better one then Dean, and Matt had taken a liking to Cas.

“Thank you.”

“What do you say, you show us your place and we’ll see from there on what we can do?” Dean suggested and Matt nodded.

They left the diner and got into the car; Matt’s apartment was small but nice with photos of Matt and a boy, who Dean assumed was Alex, all over the walls and a large terrarium with snakes in the living room.

“EMF is negative,” Sam explained after he had checked all the rooms, after leaving Missouri, he had curled up on the backseat of the Impala and not said a single word on their way to see Matt but now he seemed…normal. Focused. It worried Dean that he had no fucking clue what was going on his brother’s head.

“Right, no Sulfur either.” Dean looked around, Matt had been right, everything looked clean, there were no signs of a struggle, no signs of anything, really.

“Maybe I found something.” Cas appeared in the door, holding a stash of newspapers in one hand and something that looked like dirt in the other. “There have been strange deaths over the past few weeks,” he explained, handing the newspapers to Dean. “Hillary Johnton, drowned in a lake nearby, she used to be a member of the swimming club. Keiron Winter, alcohol poisoning, although he’d been sober for ten years. Michal Piszczek, suffocated in his own bed, his body showed signs of struggle. I’m not sure of course, but these might be connected.”

“Huh, yeah maybe. It’s worth looking into, anyway,” Dean mused before jerking his head at Cas’ other hand, “What’s that?” he asked, “Dirt?”

“Yes. I found it by the bed.”

“Huh,” Dean hummed again, “What the hell is going on?”

* * *

 

They rented themselves a motel room and each picked a case to research on.

As it turned out, Hillary Johnton, 35 years old, hadn’t just been in a swimming club, she’d been the champion of said club with various medals and awards; no one could quite explain how she could drown in a small lake.

“Hey, get this,” Sam spoke up, “Michal Piszczek had been charged with rape and manslaughter about thirty years ago, the girl died of suffocation. Pisczcek was in prison but got out about a month ago, then two weeks later, he vanishes and then turns up again, dead in his bed.”

“Hillary Johnton had been reported missing too,” Dean said and Cas nodded, “So had Keiron Winter,” he said.

“Okay, so they’re connected and the way Pisczcek died seems like – what? Vengeful spirit?”

“No EMF, though,” Sam threw in, typing away on his laptop.

“Right. I say it again, what the hell is going on?”

“I don’t know,” Sam muttered, “What about the dirt?”

“It’s not from the city, the man I spoke to said it had to come from somewhere more rural,” Cas explained.

“Oh well, that’s easy, let’s just check out the thousands of miles around this town,” Dean said sarcastically, standing up to get himself a beer. “Anyway, Alex got a few days at best, so we better find him quick.”

“Hang on,” Sam suddenly said, staring at his laptop, “I just looked up drownings in the area and in 1983 Rachel Johnton drowned in the same lake Hillary did. Rachel was Hillary’s younger sister and it says here that they were playing by the lake. It was an accident.”

“What about alcohol poison?” Dean asked in-between sips from the bottle.

“On it.” They waited a few minutes, the only sound in the room, the tapping of the keyboard. “Check this out: Nathan Black, 15 years old, died of alcohol poison, ten years ago. Winter worked at a gas station, didn’t he? What if he was the one to sell it to Nathan?”

“Okay, so it is some sort of revenge thing, just not a Spirit?” Dean was confused and he really didn’t like being confused.

“Maybe it’s guilt.” Cas said quietly from where he was sitting on the bed.

“Guilt?”

Cas shrugged. “Hillary kills her sister by accident and becomes a swimming champion. Keiron Winter sells alcohol to a teenager, the teenager dies, Winter stops drinking. Piszczek rapes and kills a girl, goes to prison, where he learns to regret his actions. He even apologized to the parents.”

“That’ll do them a lot of good,” Dean snorted.

“That’s not the point, Dean. They all felt guilt,” Cas explained calmly.

“Peachy, anyone feeling particularly guilty about something?” It was a rhetorical question of course –they all felt guilty about a lot of things.

“I’m beginning to think that we shouldn’t be here,” Cas stated carefully.

“What?”

“Think about it, Dean. As Hunters, we carry more guilt with us than any other person, making us the perfect target.”

“So, you wanna bail? What’s gotten into you, Cas?”

“I’m trying to protect you.”

“Well I don’t need protecting,” Dean snapped. He could see Cas’ point of course but he was Dean fucking Winchester. He didn’t run away. Ever.

Cas sighed, pushing himself up from the bed. “I’m going to talk to Matt again. Maybe he can tell us something else that can help us find Alex.”

The door closed shut and Dean was left alone with Sam. Sam who had just lost his wife and unborn child. Sam who probably blamed himself for Jess’ death. Sam -

“Maybe Cas is right,” Dean broke the silence and his brother looked up in confusion. “We should get out of here, it’s too dangerous,” he specified.

“What?” Sam asked in disbelief, “Because your boyfriend said so?”

“Cas isn’t – we’re not –” Dean stuttered but stopped when he saw Sam’s infamous bitchface.

“I’m not stupid, Dean,” he said, “Neither am I blind. And it’s not like I care either way but what I do care about is that you treat me like I’m an idiot! You’re worried about me, I get that, but I’m not a kid anymore, And I’m fine.” And then it was Sam storming out of the room and Dean was left alone.

“Fuck!”

* * *

 

It was getting late and Dean had read every page of John’s Journal in the search of whatever they were Hunting, without success, when Cas called him.

“ _Dean, I think you should come to Matt’s apartment. Alex is back._ ”

Ten minutes later, Dean walked up to the door and Cas was already waiting for him.

“Where is Sam?” was the first thing Cas asked when he saw that Dean had come alone.

“Sulking,” Dean answered, entering the apartment. Matt and Alex were sitting on the sofa in a ring of Salt, Matt’s arm protectively wrapped around his boyfriend’s shoulder.

“What happened?” he asked Cas quietly.

“I was talking to Matt when Alex stumbled through the door. He said he’d been put on trial for something he did and sentenced to death.”

“Put on trial? By whom?”

“He couldn’t say. But he did tell me where he was and what he saw. I already talked to Bobby and he told me the same thing I told you; we have to leave. Now.”

“Why? What is it?” Dean asked. It was scaring him to see Cas like this, unsettled. Nervous.

“Osiris. An Egyptian god and King of the Afterlife. Lore says that he can see directly into peoples’ hearts and that he judges them by the guilt they feel; which is why this is too dangerous for us.”

Dean nodded, he definitely understood why they shouldn’t stay, but – “What about Alex?” he asked, “That ring of salt won’t hold forever. I say, we find that son of a bitch and put an end to this. “

He looked at Cas and Cas held his gaze. It was a silent fight of wills, one they had had many times before and Dean felt once more like Cas was looking into his soul rather than just his eyes, like he was being stripped off everything, leaving behind just his barest core of being. For once, it was Cas that gave in first. “Fine,” he conceded, clearly unhappy with his own decision, “Alex said that he was held in an old cabin in the woods just outside the city. I know where it is.”

“Great, let’s go,” Dean said turning towards the two boys, “You two, whatever happens, stay inside the circle. Matt, get something made of iron and hit anything that moves.”

Both Matt and Alex nodded. Satisfied, the two Hunters left the house and got into the, while Dean tried to reach Sam.

“Dammit!”  he cursed after the third unsuccessful try. He was seriously fighting back the urge to just chuck the damned phone out the window.

“Dean,” Cas pressed, “What happened with Sam?”

“Nothing,”  Dean snapped.

“Dean.” There was a subtle warning in Cas’ tone and Dean sighed.

“We had a fight, ok? It was stupid and unnecessary and then he took off.”

Dean was angry. Angry because Cas had been right. Angry because Sam had acted so damn childish. Angry because he, himself, had acted so damn childish. Angry because now they couldn’t find Sam and what if Osiris had gotten hold of him?

Dean stopped the car and they both got out; he had parked at the edge of a dark forest, a muddy trail leading into the shadows.

“Alright then,” Dean muttered and started walking towards the trees, “Let’s –”

Suddenly, something grabbed him from behind and Dean felt darkness closing in around him, smothering him and when he opened his eyes again, he was sitting in a chair in a dirty basement.

“Dean?”

Dean turned his head to see his brother in a similar position a few feet away.

“Sam!” he cried out, relief washing over him, “You okay?”

“Yeah. What’s going on?”

Dean was just about to answer when a tall guy in robes entered the room.

“Quiet Mr. and Mr. Winchester. I am Osiris and I will be your judge today. Shall we begin with the charges?” the man spoke and sat down in a pompous throne. Both Sam and Dean glared at the god but said nothing. “Mr. Dean Winchester, first defendant. I will now call the first witness to the stand. Sam Winchester.” Dean watched in horror as Sam’s chains sprung open and he walked on shaky legs towards the chair next to Osiris.

“Please, state your name for the court.”

Sam shifted in obvious discomfort but when he answered, his voice was firm, “Samuel Winchester.”

“Mr. Winchester, isn’t it right that it was the defendant, your brother, failed you?”

“What?” Sam asked bewildered, “No! He didn’t.”

_Yes, I did._

“But didn’t he leave you behind?” Osiris asked, his eyes fixed on Sam.

“I left.”

_And I let you. I didn’t come after you._

 “So, you do not think it is his fault that your wife died?” Osiris asked.

“How could it possibly be his fault?”

“Answer the question, Mr. Winchester,” Osiris demanded.

 “No,” Sam said firmly.

_Yes._

“Next Witness.” Osiris called out and Sam walked back to his chair next to Dean. “Madison Vaugier.”

Dean swallowed while Madison’s ghost appeared behind the chair, looking just as he remembered her.

“Madison, please sit,” the god said and the ghost obliged, “Tell me Madison, why did you die?”

“Because I wanted to,” Madison answered.

“Did you now? Wasn’t it rather because Dean had failed you?”

“No.” Madison shook her head vehemently. “It’s wasn’t Dean’s fault that I had been bitten by a Werewolf. That was before we even met. It’s not his fault that there is no cure. That I couldn’t live like that.”

_But I did. I failed you. I should have saved you. I should have found a way to save you._

“But if you had never met, wouldn’t you still be alive?”

“Well yes, but –” Madison vanished with a wave of Osiris’ hand.

“Now, last but not least. Bela Talbot.”

Dean closed his eyes, a cold shudder running down his spine. He had hated Bela but she certainly hadn’t deserved that. Hell. No one did.

“Hello, Dean.” The British woman stood there, smiling coolly at the Hunter and Dean could feel Sam’ confused eyes on him.

“Miss Talbot, what was your relationship to Dean Winchester?”

“Complicated. We didn’t like each other particularly.”

“And why was that?”

“Ethical differences. He didn’t agree with my methods.”

“And you died because of a Crossroad deal?”

“Yes.”

“Did Dean know about that?”

“Yes.”

“Yet, he didn’t help you?”

“I never asked for his help until it was too late.”

“And then?”

“He declined.”

“Would you say your death was his fault?”

“I was being chased by Hellhounds. Dean is good but he isn’t that good, so no, it wasn’t fault. He couldn’t’ve stopped it. Not forever, anyway.”

_But I could have tried._

“Thank you, Miss Talbot.”

Bela vanished and Osiris stood up, slamming his staff on the ground three times and Dean winced. “The court has reached a verdict,” he proclaimed, “I find you, Dean Winchester, guilty in your heart and sentence you to die.”

Dean’s eyes grew wide, he should have expected it. He should have known it. He was hardly listening when it was Sam’s turn to be put on trial _._

_Dammit Cas, where are you?_ He thought frantically.

“Samuel Winchester, I have only one witness for you. Jessica Winchester.”

There was a choked sound coming from Sam and then Jess sat on the chair, beautiful and unharmed.

“Jess,” Sam whispered and Dean didn’t have to see his face to know that there were tears running down his cheeks.

“Hello Sam,” Jess smiled.

“Mrs. Winchester, you were the defendant’s wife?” Osiris asked, settling back in his throne.

“Yes.”

“And you died in his absence?”

“Yes.”

“Would you say you would still be alive if he had been there?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. That’s impossible to say.”

“That is correct. But your husband lied to you, did he not? About his past, his family?”

“Well, yes but –” Jess attempted to say but was interrupted by the god, “- and isn’t that the reason why you died? The secrets that he kept?”

“What?” Jess exclaimed, shaking her head furiously, “No! It wasn’t him that killed me. He didn’t do anything wrong, he tried to protect me!”

“And what would you say, if I told you that he knew what would happen? That he could have stopped it, but he didn’t.”

“Well, he didn’t know, did he?” Jess asked confused, searching for Sam’s eyes. “Did you, Sam?”

“I’m sorry, Jess.” Sam whispered hoarsely.

Yet again, Osiris waved his hand and Jess was gone and Sam was full on crying now, his body shaking as he tried to control his breathing and Dean…Dean knew what his sentence would be.

“I find you, Sam Winchester, guilty in your heart and –” Osiris’ mouth fell open, blue light was pouring from his eyes and Dean could feel the chains around his body, vanishing.

“Cas?” Dean asked with relief, “What the hell took you so long?”

“You’re welcome, Dean.” Cas smirked at him before offering his hand to help Dean up.

“Man, I’m glad you’re here,” Dean said and pulled Cas in a tight hug who returned it with surprise.

“Are you okay?” Cas whispered.

“Yeah.”

And he was. Sort of. Or he would be. He just had to let go.

“Sam?” Dean turned to his brother who had made no attempt to get out of the chair yet, his face pale and wet with tears.

“I’m fine, Dean. I’m fine.”

He didn’t look fine, but Dean didn’t ask. Sam would talk about it if and when he wanted to.

“Come on,” he muttered, “Let’s get outta here.”

Slowly, Sam stood up, ignoring Dean’s helping hand and Dean took the hint and backed off, letting his brother walked ahead. The three men made their way back through the forest to the car and Dean could see from the corner of his eye was Cas pulled out his phone.

“Hello Matt, is everything okay?” the brunet asked, “That’s good. We’ll check in with you later.”

* * *

 

Later, meaning the next morning, they packed their stuff and made a quick detour Matt’s and Alex’s apartment. Nothing seemed to be damaged inside the house but Alex was still pale and quiet.

“What happened last night?” Dean asked out of curiosity.

Matt threw a quick glance towards his boyfriend who nodded.

“Alex used to do drugs, deal them too,” Matt began to explain, “A kid from his neighbourhood died, he stopped after that, went into rehab. Last night the kid that died showed up, he blamed Alex for his death. He was only 16.”

Dean nodded. He was glad that Alex wasn’t alone in this, that he had his boyfriend to look after him.

“You’ll be okay?” he asked.

“Yeah.” Matt nodded and that was good enough for Dean. “Thanks, again.”

They said their goodbyes and hit the road.

 


	4. Forgiveness. Can You Imagine?

_And what would you say, if I told you that he knew what would happen? That he could have stopped it, but he didn’t._

Dean couldn’t get Osiris’ words out of his head. What had he meant, Sam had known what would happen? But every time, he asked Sam about it, his brother just shut off. Like he did with everything these days.

“Dammit, Sam!” Dean cursed one night when they were all holed up in their motel room, “Just talk to me!”

“Why? So, you can worry about me some more? I don’t _need_ you to be worried about me, Dean. I am fine,” Sam retorted forcefully even though he evidently was not fine.

“No, you’re not. You’re keeping secrets.”

“Yes, I am, Dean. And have you asked yourself why?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That I’m not the only one with secrets. Bela Talbot? Cas? What else is there that I should know about? How many people have you killed during those eight years? How many innocent people have died because of you? How much guilt, do you really carry around?”

Dean was lost for words which, truth be told, didn’t happen often and he began to wonder if the rift between him and Sam didn’t run deeper than he had originally thought.

“Sam.” Cas’ voice was deep and calm and Dean was secretly grateful for the intervention. “It was not your brother’s intent to keep secrets from you. Fact is, you haven’t seen each other in a long time and there are bound to be things that you don’t know about each other. Maybe it’s time we change that.”

Sam’s eyes remained on Dean and every bone in his body was fighting against it, talking. He had never been a fan of words, for him, actions were much more important but maybe Cas was right.

Dean sighed, all the energy leaving his body. “What he said.”

“Fine.” Sam gritted his teeth but relaxed slightly, sitting down at the small table.

“Well? What ya wanna know?” Dean asked and grabbed a beer from the fridge.

“Anything. Something.”

So, Dean started with the first thing that came to his mind. The night he had met Cas. He told Sam how he had gone to that bar and ended up in Cas’ bed. It wasn’t exactly easy talking about it; he had never had to before but he realized that this was something Sam needed and, as the big brother, it was his job to give that to him.

“Then, six months later -

 

_Dean and John were working a job in Ohio involving some crazy deaths. Dean suspected Witches. Dean hated Witches._

_“Man, I hate Witches,” he complained while he and his dad sat in the car in front of the last victim’s house._

_“I heard you the first ten times you said that, Dean,” John replied tightly without even looking at his son.._

_Today, they were both dressed as priests so they could talk to the wife and have a look around the house._

_John rang the doorbell and a moment later, a tall woman with curly, brown hair opened the door._

_“Mrs. Hale?” John asked, his whole demeanour changing to that of a man of empathy and trust, “I’m Father John, this is Father Dean, we are here to offer our deep condolences for your husband’s death.”_

_Mrs. Hale starred at them for a second before stepping aside, without a word she led them into the kitchen._

_“Mrs. Hale, we understand that this is a difficult time for you. Why don’t you tell us about your husband?”_

_It took a moment for Mrs. Hale to answer as she sat down at the kitchen table and invited Dean and John to do the same._

_“Greg was…he was a sweetheart,” he widow began, “A bit too nice sometimes, he just couldn’t say no. I – oh god, I miss him so much,” she cried out and Dean quickly offered her a tissue._

_“Was there anyone he didn’t get along with?” he asked carefully and the widow shook her head._

_“No, no everyone loved Greg.”_

_“What was he like?” John asked._

_Apparently, Greg had come from a poor family, lost his parents at an early age and had been raised by his sister who had passed away a few years ago. Greg had worked as a preschool teacher, the only male employee, and volunteered at the animal shelter on the weekends. Victoria Hale couldn’t get any children but that had been okay._

_“We were happy,” she said eventually, “I don’t know why he would do this to himself.” Obviously, Dean didn’t have an answer to that. According to the medical examination, Greg had burned alive. Spontaneous combustion._

_“Would you mind showing us photos of Greg?” John asked kindly._

_Victoria nodded and left the room. As soon as she was out of sight, John and Dean set to motion, quickly searching through every possible hiding place for a Hexbag._

_“Got it,” John said, while Dean was still on his hands and knees to look under a massive cupboard._

_They listened to Victoria while she told them more stories about Greg, and Dean was relieved when they could finally leave the house to go back to their motel._

_“So? What do you think?” he asked his father as soon as John had started the car._

_“I think that woman has something to hide. No marriage is never that happy,” he answered roughly. Dean didn’t ask what he meant by that, it wasn’t his place. “Anyway, we better look into this Hexbag and find out who the Witch is before it kills someone else.”_

_And that was something, Dean definitely couldn’t argue with that._

_It was the dead of night when Dean woke up by the ringing of a phone. Dad’s phone._

_“Yes?” John answered it, “Where? – Okay, I’m on my way.”_

_“Dad?”  Dean sat up and saw his dad already on his feet, packing his stuff. “Dad what’s going on?”_

_“You’ve got to take care of this by yourself,” his dad said without even looking at Dean as he checked his gun, “I have to go.”_

_“What? Where?”_

_“New York. An old friend just called, said he might have a lead on the Demon.”_

_Dean swallowed hard. The Demon, meant the son of a bitch that killed his mum. The one they’d been Hunting almost all his life._

_“Take me with you,” he said and was already half out of bed before John turned around and shook his head._

_“No,” he said firmly, pulling on his jacket, “You have to stay here, find out who the Witch is, kill it. I’ll call you.” And with those words, John left the room and shut the door._

_A few moments later, Dean could hear he engines of the Impala roaring up and slowly fading away. Dean kept staring at the door, it wasn’t the first time that John left to Hunt down the Demon but still he felt like he had just been left behind. Like he wasn’t good enough. One look at the clock told him that it was 3 a.m. and knowing himself, he wouldn’t get anymore sleep anyway so he swung himself out of bed and began going over the facts once more._

_“I was just out for like five minutes and when I came back, he was just…he was…”_

_“It’s okay, Mrs. Galmore. You don’t have to go into the details.”_

_Dean, Father Dean that was, stood in another kitchen, talking to another widow of another victim. Burned alive. It didn’t take long for him to find the Hexbag under the sink and the story matched the one of Mrs. Hale to the last detail. Spontaneous combustion. Dean groaned internally, he fucking hated Witches._

_When he left the house, he saw an old lady, staring at him from behind her window, frowning, Dean decided to walk up to the door but before he could do as much as raise a finger, the door already opened._

_Dean put on his most charming smile. “Good morning, Mrs. –”_

_“Baker.”_

_He nodded and said, “Mrs. Baker. I’m Father Dean. Tell me, did you know Michael Galmore, well?”_

_“More than I wanted to,” the old woman answered, scowling at the Galmore’s house._

_“Why is that?”  Dean asked with genuine interest._

_“Well he was rude for one thing,” Mrs. Baker snapped, “And Amanda, that poor girl, she didn’t deserve someone like that.”_

_“Mrs. Galmore? She said they had a happy marriage.”_

_“Well, she would, wouldn’t she? No, no, Father, I’m telling you that man was bad news. I hate speaking ill of the dead but all those girls he took home…He should have been ashamed of himself.”_

_“Girls?”_

_“But of course! Young enough to be his daughters.”_

_“Did Mrs. Galmore know about that?”_

_“I doubt it. Poor thing was blinded by love.”_

_Dean thanked Mrs. Baker and returned to the motel, now he at least had something to go on. A cheating husband. Which made him wonder, what had Mr. Hale gotten up to when his wife hadn’t been looking? Quickly, he got back into the car he stole that morning and drove back to the Hale’s house._

_“Father?” Mrs. Hale asked in confusion but let him in nevertheless, “What are you doing here?”_

_“I thought I’d come by again, it must have been horrible to hear about Mr. Galmore.”_

_“Amanda is my friend,” Victoria said as they sat down at the kitchen table once more_

_“I’m very sorry. A neighbour of Mrs. Galmore told me that they had problems…?” Dean said and watched Victoria’s face closely. There was a moment where it seemed like she was – scared? Scared of what? But it was gone before Dean could think about it too much. “Doesn’t everyone have problems?” she muttered eventually._

_“Did you?” The words had slipped out before Dean could have stopped them._

_“Excuse me?”_

_“My apologies. But as you said, everyone has their problems and I’m here to listen.”_

_Victoria’s face softened a bit and she nodded. “We were happy,” she assured him, “But…”_

_“Mrs. Hale?”_

_“Nothing.” She quickly shook her head and excused herself to go to the bathroom. Again, Dean let his eyes wonder and – he stopped short. There was a door, he hadn’t noticed the day before; it seemed to be going down to the basement, which wasn’t unusual but…_

_“I’m sorry Father but I’d really like to be alone now,” Victoria told him. He hadn’t even heard her come back but there was nothing he could do except leave._

_Back at the motel, he pulled out the two Hexbags again. A black cat’s bones, hair of the victims, Cinnamon, and Rosemary. Which was exactly what he had smelled in Victoria’s house._

_When it was dark outside, Dean drove back to the Hale’s house and was pleased to find it abandoned. Breaking in wasn’t a problem, and soon enough he found himself standing in the darkness of the basement. He felt with his hand for the light switch and jumped slightly when he finally found it. The whole room seemed to be one altar, the shelves where filled with herbs and spices, dead animals hanging from the ceiling, candles standing everywhere._

_“Gotcha,” he whispered to himself._

_“I knew you weren’t a priest.”_

_Dean spun around and saw Victoria, Amanda and a third woman standing at the top of the stairs. Quickly, Dean pulled his gun but of course, he wasn’t quick enough._

Did I ever mention how much I hate Witches? _He thought grimly as he was magically pushed against the wall._

_“Who are you?” Victoria asked._

_“Someone who’s going to put an end to all this,” Dean spat out._

_“Oh, I don’t think so. We didn’t do anything wrong, it’s them that needed to be punished.”_

_“Them?”_

_“Our husbands,” the third woman, whose name Dean didn’t know said, “Cheating scumbags, the lot of them.”_

_“What? So, you decided to kill them?” Dean asked in disbelief._

_“We burn them. It’s what they deserve.”_

_“Sorry ladies, but that’s crazy.”_

_“It’s only fair,” Victoria said. The three women gathered around the table in the middle of the room and Dean realized with horror that they were about to do another Spell. Fighting furiously against the invisible restraints, Dean actually managed to move a few inches. The Witches were distracted, too caught up in their Spell work._

_“Who’s the leader of that little Coven of yours?” Dean asked loudly, mainly to buy himself some time. It worked. The three looked up and now there was definitely fear in their faces._

_“We don’t know her name,” Amanda said quickly, “She came to us a few months ago, told us that we should stand up for ourselves. Us girls needed to stick together, she said.”_

_“She gave us the book,” Victoria whispered._

_“For what? What did she want in return?” Dean asked, although he was afraid that he already knew the answer: magic like this usually came from some Demonic deal._

_“Nothing.”_

_Now that surprised Dean. Why would someone just give away a Spellbook for nothing? “Anyway. Stay where you are, you’re next,” Victoria said coolly before turning back to the table. Dean’s mind was racing, he had to do something. He watched as the nameless woman lit the candles and spoke an incantation in Latin before dropping a match into a bowl. “Goodbye Peter,” she said with a cold smile._

_“I don’t think so,” a deep voice called from out of the shadows and Dean froze. He knew that voice, “Peter is fine. I burned his Hexbag and now you are going to step away from that altar,” the man demanded._

_Dean could see his outlines in the shadow, the shape of a gun, pointed at the Witches. There was a moment in which no one dared to move, before all hell broke loose. The third Witch, Peter’s wife, picked up a dagger from the table and flung it towards the man, Dean saw the gunfire, before he heard the shot and the woman dropped to the floor, blood seeping out of her body. The magical restrains vanished and Dean landed on his feet. He drew his own gun and pointed it at the remaining two Witches, who began chanting a Spell, Dean felt pain swelling in his head, making him blind and he pulled the trigger without really seeing what he was shooting at; he surely hit something because the next thing he heard was a scream and more shots. The pain grew worse, he felt blood running out of his nose, dripping onto the floor, and he realized that he was on his knees, his hands pressed against his head and –_

_The pain stopped. Panting heavily, Dean raised his head and saw the three Witches lying dead on the floor and he saw the man that saved his life, stepping into the light, blue eyes fixed on him._

_“Cas,” he choked out and the other Hunter smiled._

_“Hello, Dean.”_

 

\- we started Hunting together after that,” Dean ended the story, “Cas surely knows a few tricks, got good connections, too. Did dad ever mention the Roadhouse to you?” Sam shook his head. “Yeah, he wouldn’t have. Ellen Harvelle runs it together with her daughter Jo. Ellen’s husband, Bill, was a Hunter too. Friend of dad. He died over ten years ago on a Hunt with dad. Apparently, it was dad’s fault.”

It was still hard for Dean to think about that. To think of his father as someone who got his own friend killed because of a mistake. John Winchester didn’t make mistakes.

“How do you know all this?” Sam asked with wide eyes.

“Ellen told me. She wasn’t very pleased to see me at first but she got around, helped me and Cas out a couple o’ times, too.”

“Wow. I mean I knew dad had secrets too but…that’s kinda big.”

“Tell me about it. I never told dad I knew; wasn’t worth the hassle.”

“You really have changed, haven’t you?” Sam asked mesmerized, “I remember you being dad’s attack dog. What happened?”

_Cas happened,_ Dean thought but he couldn’t bring himself to say that. It was too much. Too personal. “Don’t know,” he answered instead, standing up to get his third beer of the night. “I guess I grew up.” Which was true as well. He was by far not the man anymore he had been at 22.

They sat a moment in silence but as opposed to before it was comfortable. Relaxed.

“Jess and I met in college,” Sam muttered eventually, “She was perfect. Sweet and funny and…and normal. We moved in together pretty quick and after four years together I asked her to marry me. About a week ago, we moved into the new house, with Jess being pregnant and everything...” Sam’s voice failed. He stared blankly at the floor and Dean was hit by the darkness he could see in his little brother’s eyes. “I just want to find the thing that killed her and then I’m going to rip it apart.”

Sam was trembling with anger and a part of Dean understood what Sam was feeling but…there was something else…something that had him worried.

“Sam,” he began, “it wasn’t your fault.”

“You don’t get it, Dean! I could have stopped it. I could have saved her!”

“How? How could you have possibly done that?”

“I dreamt about it, okay? About her death, _exactly_ the way it happened, days before it did. I should have known.”

“People have crazy dreams all the time, Sammy.”

“Not like this. It was _real_. It felt real. And I should have known but I thought they were just nightmares and when I lay in bed that night and felt something dripping on my face, I knew what I was going to see. I knew it, Dean, and I didn’t stop it.” Sam looked devastated, broken.

“So, what? You’re some kind of Psychic now?” Dean asked.

“What? No!”

“Well then I don’t see how you’re responsible. It was just a dream Sam. You couldn’t have known it would happen. You couldn’t have.”

“Dean is right, Sam. Your wife’s death is not your fault,” Cas said firmly.

“It doesn’t matter,” Sam muttered, “I feel guilty. Osiris knew that too.”


	5. This Dream Is My Reality

“Well come on then…let me have it,” Dean sighed, wriggling against his restrains.

“What do you mean?” Cas asked innocently from across the room.

“I told you so?”

“Well I did.”

“Well, good on you,” Dean snapped, “Remind me to give you a fucking medal when this is over.”

Cas groaned, throwing his head back and banging against the wall. “Could you please take this serious?”

“What? Lost your sense of humor, Cas?” Dean mocked the other Hunter, “Oh yeah, glare at me. Always gets me all hot and bothered.”

“Dean,” Cas warned him and Dean gave him his most charming smile.

“Ahem.” Oh right, Sam was there too. “Guys, if you could stop flirting for a second, that’d be great. We still need to get out of here,” the younger Winchester said.

“Sammy, Sammy, Sammy.” Dean shook his head in false disappointment. “You really _are_ out of practice, aren’t you? I cut my arms loose like two minutes ago,” he said and held up his free hands, “Cas?”

“Four minutes,” Cas replied smugly, “I’m still better than you.”

They both got up and Dean cut his brother lose so they could make a quick exit and kill the Shapeshifter that had taken them, on their way out.

* * *

 

Back at the motel, Dean took a shower and thought about the previous months. Four months, to be exact. Four months, since Jess had died. Four months since he and Sam were back together as a family again. Four months of searching for their father and the Demon and they were still not any closer to either of those. Sam was still quiet but it was different this time, calculated, like he was working on something. Planning his revenge.

Cas was already in bed when he came out of the bathroom and Dean quickly joint him; at least that wasn’t a problem. Sam didn’t seem to find it weird at all that he and Cas were a thing and Dean was grateful for that. He smiled when Cas pulled Dean closer, muttering into his ear, “Are you alright?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Dean asked back.

“You’re brooding.”

“I don’t brood,” Dean argued, careful not to wake Sam.

“Yes, you do.” Dean couldn’t see Cas’ face but there was a fond smile against his neck. “What is it?”

Dean sighed, “I’m worried about Sam,” he whispered, “He seems different. I don’t think he’s coping that well.”

“He lost his family. His life. Of course, he’s not coping that well. But at least he’s got you.”

“Yeah.” _The person that took it from him._

“I love you, Dean,” Cas whispered and now it was Dean that smiled.

“I love you too,” he answered but Cas was already asleep.

 

_“Do people actually watch daytime TV. It’s terrible,” Dean complained while zapping through the channels. Cas was standing in front of the hospital bed, looking as bad as Dean felt._

_“I talked to the doctor,” Cas explained and Dean knew what would come next. He knew. And he didn’t want to hear it, didn’t want to get all chick-flick-ish and he certainly didn’t want to talk about the fact that he was dying._

_“Yeah well, looks like you’re gonna leave town without me.”_

_“I’m not gonna leave you, Dean.”_

_“Just promise me that you’ll take care of my car. Or I swear I’m gonna haunt your ass.”_

_“It’s not funny,” Cas whispered even though he cracked a tiny smile._

_“It’s a little funny,” Dean smiled back faintly._

_Cas kept looking at him and Dean could see the tears in his eyes, could see the struggle to hold it together and it hurt. Dean had never planned on getting so close but somewhere along the way he had and now he had to pay the price. “It’s a dangerous life.” He shrugged. It was true, but at least he took one of those sons of bitches down with him._

_“I’m going to save you,” Cas announced and there was so much determination in his eyes, so much hope that Dean had to swallow hard._

_“Why?” he croaked out._

_“Because I love you,” Cas simply stated._

_“Cas –” it hadn’t been the first time that the other man had said it. The l-word. It still felt weird though._

_“Just accept it, Dean. Because you can’t change it.”_ Well, at least Cas isn’t about cry anymore, _Dean thought. “And you can drop the act by the way because I can see right through it. You are scared. You have about a month left to live and it scares you.” Like always, Cas hit the nail on the head and Dean let his eyes drop. “And that is okay. It doesn’t mean you are weak, it only means you are human.”_

_Dean still couldn’t look at Cas but he could hear him move, steps walking towards the door._

_“I don’t want to die,” Dean whispered and Jesus fucking Christ, why the hell was_ he _crying now? Dean looked up and saw that Cas had stopped walking and faced Dean again. “I don’t want to die,” he repeated but that wasn’t enough it wasn’t nearly enough, it was – “I love you, too.” The words felt strange in his mouth, unfamiliar but not bad._

_Cas smiled, “Five years,” he said, “We have been together for five years and that was the first time you ever actually said that to me.” There was both sadness and happiness in his eyes._

_“Yeah, well,” Dean tried to shrug it off, “Don’t get used to it, you might not hear it for another five years,” he joked, hoping Cas would get it. Understand the words in between, those he could not say. The tender look in Cas eyes, told him that he understood it for the apology and the promise it was._

_“There is a guy in Nebraska, a Reverent named Roy Le Grange. He might be able to help us,” Cas said and Dean nodded, Cas would save his life. Again. He just hoped that he would get the chance to return the favour one day._

* * *

“Dean,” a distant voice was calling his name or maybe that was only in his dream. Maybe – “Dean!” Dean opened his eyes and saw that Sam had turned on the light, stuffing things in the duffel bag.

“What’ya doing, man, it’s the middle of the night,” Dean muttered. He turned to Cas and saw that his boyfriend was still fast asleep.

“We have to go.” Sam seemed breathless, distressed.

“What happened?” Dean asked, now a little bit more awake.

“We have to go,” Sam repeated, “Right now.”

His little brother took the bag and left the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

“Dean?” Cas muttered groggily. “Wha’s going on?”

“I have no idea. Come on, get dressed.”

Five minutes later, they all sat in the car, racing down the street through the rain, while Sam made a few calls. From what Sam had told him, he had had a nightmare, except Sam was sure that it hadn’t been just a dream but rather some sort of premonition like he had had with Jess.

“Jim Miller. Saginaw, Michigan,” Sam repeated while he wrote down the name and Dean really wasn’t sure what to think of that. Foreshadowing dreams of complete strangers.

It took them a few hours to get to the address and Dean was definitely not prepared for what he saw. There were police officers everywhere, neighbours standing around, watching, and a body bag that was being carried towards an ambulance. He didn’t even have words for it and apparently, neither had Cas or Sam. They just sat in the car and starred at the scene before them.

“What happened?” he asked one of the bystanders.

“Suicide,” the woman answered. Dean tried to catch Sam’s eyes, this was exactly how he had described his dream. “They only found him an hour or two ago,” the woman explained and Dean could feel something inside him drop. An hour or two. They could have been there. They could have helped him.

Suddenly, Cas nudged him slightly, his head nodding towards a boy standing in front of the house. Apathetic. Motionless.

Sam walked away, towards the car and Dean and Cas followed close by; there wasn’t anything for them to do at the moment.

“It just doesn’t make any sense.” Sam shook his head. “Why would I have these premonitions unless there was a chance I could stop them from happening.”

“I don’t know,” Dean answered and turned to Cas who looked just as clueless.

“What the hell is happening?”

* * *

 

Sam and Dean returned the next morning, dressed as priests, while Cas checked out the victim and the neighbourhood.

“Good afternoon,” Dean greeted Roger Miller when he opened the door.

The visit itself was disappointing to say the least. A grieving wife and a traumatized son was never much to go on and not finding any signs of anything really didn’t exactly make it easier.

“I dunno, man. You sure this is our kind of thing?” Dean asked when they got back into the car.

“Why else would I dream about it, Dean? That doesn’t strike you as weird?”

“Weird, yes, but…look Sammy, our whole life is one messed up chain of weird,” Dean considered.

“I just have a feeling about this, okay?” Sam’s voice made it clear that that was his final word, so they drove the rest of the way to the motel in silence. Cas was already waiting for them, when Dean opened the door.

“Find anything?” Dean asked as a greeting.

“Hello to you too, Dean,” Cas answered drily without turning around. He was standing in front of a pin board, exhibiting all the known facts about the case so far. “And no, there is nothing unusual about the house or the family. The Millers moved in five years ago, before that, there were no sudden or violent deaths. However, I did speak to an old neighbour of the family from when they were still living in the old house and he spoke of child abuse. Not sure how that is going to help us, though.”

“Child abuse, as in, Max? The son?” Sam asked. He sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes screwed shut.

“Yes. According to him, the father was very strict and easily lost his – Sam are you alright?” Cas interrupted himself and Dean quickly turned towards his brother. Sam’s face showed pain, while he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah, just – oh god.” Sam groaned.

“Sam!” Dean quickly got up and walked towards his brother who was practically curled together on the floor now. “What’s wrong?”

“My head,” Sam pressed out.

Dean threw a helpless look towards Cas who didn’t seem to know what to do either.

“It’s happening again,” Sam exclaimed in panic, “Something’s gonna kill Roger Miller.”

Dean wanted to ask what he was talking about but the expression on Sam’s face was enough to stop him. Sam was serious about this and if there was even the faintest chance for them to stop this from happening, they would.

They all hurried out of the room and into the car, rushing through the streets towards Roger’s apartment. Sam still seemed a little out of it even though he did a good job at hiding it but Dean could see it. The weariness in his eyes, the pale of his skin.

“You okay?” he asked with a side glance at Sam.

“Yeah I’m fine,” Sam muttered, obviously lying, “Just drive.”

“Sam, do you have any idea why you would have these visions?” Cas asked and Sam shook his head.

“No, none. I mean the nightmares were bad enough and now I’m seeing things while I’m awake... “ there was fear in Sam’s voice. Dean couldn’t blame him. He would never actually admit it, but he was scared as well.

“And Jessica was the first time you ever had something like that?” Cas inquired further.

“Yes.”

“I admit, that is strange. Psychics usually develop their powers from an early age on and they get stronger the older they get and the more they practice.”

“Sam’s not a Psychic, though,” Dean threw in.

This was useless; they were running in circles, always getting back to where they had started and not getting anywhere.

_Why_ did Sam suddenly have death visions?

* * *

 

Too late. They were too late. Again. And Dean was slowly freaking out. This was the second death in a row that Sam had predicted and the second one they couldn’t prevent.

“Well at least we know that this is not connected to the house but to the family,” Cas said after a long moment of uncomfortable silence.

“Vengeful spirit?” Dean suggested.

“Of some sort, I’m sure. There must have been something big, something that’s worth the revenge.”

“Child abuse,” Sam all but whispered.

“What was that?”

“Child abuse,” Sam repeated, this time louder, “Cas, you said that the neighbour knew something about that. What exactly did he say?”

“A lot of yelling, things being thrown around. The father was drunk a lot and when he was, he beat Max. Broke his arm two times. He said there was not a day where he hadn’t seen something like that. The uncle too and the step-mother just watched and did nothing.”

“So, what? You think, Max could have done that? How?” Dean asked. Sure, the story was tragic and he felt sorry for the kid but he didn’t see how Max could have killed his father and uncle.

“Wait,” Sam said, “Step-mother?”

“Yes,” Cas nodded, searching in the pile of papers on the table until he found what he had been looking for, “The real mother died 25 years ago in a house fire.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up, _house fire? 25 years ago?_ It might have been a coincidence but Dean didn’t believe in those. Cas seemed to have noticed too, “Do you think there is a connection? Between her death and your mum’s?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe.” They knew too little about Mary’s death to know what had really happened that night.

“We should talk to Max,” Sam suggested.

“And say what? ‘Hey Max, we’ve been wondering, did you kill any of your relatives lately ‘cause they beat the shit out of you?’” Dean mocked, naturally, Sam did not look impressed.

“Sam is right,” Cas intervened, “We should talk to him. Tomorrow. We still have time to think of something until then.”

Since Dean really had no better idea, he simply muttered a, “Whatever,” while he stood up to get himself a beer.

It was already pretty late and Sam had long since fallen asleep but Dean was still awake; sitting at the table, sipping at his beer and staring into the darkness.

“You are troubled,” Cas said in a low voice. Dean didn’t answer at first; he wasn’t sure what to say. Denying it would be pointless, Cas always knew when he lied, but admitting what was bothering him didn’t seem like a great idea either. “It’s okay to be scared, Dean. What is happening to Sam is inexplicable and it’s only natural that you’re worried about him.”

“I’m freaking out here, Cas,” Dean whispered eventually, “I mean, come on, seriously? Death visions? That’s not right, he’s not supposed to have those, he’s supposed to be the normal one of us.”

“Normal?” Cas asked with an amused look.

“You know what I mean.”

“I think I do. But, Dean, Sam didn’t choose this and I think for him, this is worse than for you and no matter how strange this seems…Sam needs you.”

Dean sighed. “I know.” He did. Sam was his little brother and it was Dean’s job to take care of him, the problem was just that he didn’t know how to do that anymore.

“Let’s go to bed, Dean.” Cas offered his hand and Dean accepted it, following Cas across the room towards the bed where they snuggled against each other and Dean felt a little bit better with Cas’ arms wrapped around him.

* * *

 

The morning started good enough. Dean woke up late and they headed down to a diner to get some breakfast, but of course, it couldn’t stay that way.

“What did you see, Sam?” Dean asked concerned after another of Sam’s visions.

“He’s doing it. Max. Everything I’ve been seeing.”

“You sure about this?” Dean asked while he started the car.

“Yeah, I saw him.”

“How?” Cas asked.

“I dunno, some sort of telekinesis.” Sam answered.

“So, he’s Psychic?”

“I don’t know, Dean, but it makes sense, doesn’t it? I mean he was there, the whole time. When his dad died, the apartment of the uncle. He’s angry because his family let him suffer and now he wants payback.”

“Well that’s not an excuse to kill your whole family. We gotta stop him.”

“You mean kill him?”

“Yes.”

“Dean, we’re not gonna kill Max,” Sam disagreed, “He’s a person.”

“Yeah, a person that kills people. He’s no different than the other things we’ve Hunted.”

“We can talk to him,” Sam said exasperatedly.

“Cas? Little help here, please?” Dean turned towards his boyfriend who looked deeply conflicted.

“I do feel uncomfortable with killing him without even trying to reason with him,” Cas said carefully and Dean snorted. He should have seen this coming.

“Alright,” he gave in, “Let’s talk to him, then.”

Grabbing the gun from the glove box, Dean got out of the car and walked towards the door, Sam and Cas following him closely.

They made quick work of the door by simply kicking it in and not a moment too late because Max was standing in the middle of the kitchen, staring at his mother and Dean could have sworn that the knife, lying on the counter was moving.

“Fathers?” Mrs. Miller asked surprised.

“What are you doing here?”

Dean made sure to give his most innocent smile and think of an explanation that didn’t involve killing the boy because of his psychic powers.

It was Sam that spoke first, “Er, Max, could we…talk to you outside for a moment?” he asked.

“About what?” Max seemed suspicious and Dean couldn’t blame him. Not after the way they had just barged in on them.

“It’s private.”

Dean was relieved when the boy nodded reluctantly and he quickly opened the door, only to have it fly out of his hand a second later; slamming shut. _Fuck!_ That couldn’t be good. He quickly drew his gun but of course Max took that too.

“Max,” Cas said carefully, “Calm down, please.”

“Shut up,” the boy snapped, the gun pointed at Dean.

“Max –”

“I said shut up!”

Suddenly, Cas was flung across the room. Dean could see the Hunter’s head hitting the kitchen counter, and it took him everything not to cry out and run for Cas’ help.

“Who are you?” Max asked, he was shaking, tears running down him face.

“We just wanna talk to you,” Sam answered quickly. Dean’s eyes were fixed on Cas who was still lying on the floor and he decided that it was probably best to let Sam do the talking since he seemed to have a better connection to the kid than he had.

“I’m having visions, Max. About you,” Sam just explained.

“You’re crazy.” Max shook his head in disbelief.

Dean rolled his eyes but still said nothing. Sam could handle this and Max actually seemed to calm down a bit.

“Just you and me.”

* * *

 

Dean and Alice helped Cas stand up to go upstairs even though Dean really, _really_ didn’t like the idea of Sam being alone with that lunatic.

Once they were in the bedroom, Dean took care of the wound on Cas’ head, while Alice Miller was pacing up and down the room.

“You okay?” Dean whispered.

“Yes.” Cas nodded. They’d had worse but seeing Cas get hurt was something Dean would never get used to.

“Mrs. Miller, please sit down. Max will be fine.” Dean spoke up after a while.

“I just don’t understand what is happening,” Max’ mother cried frantically.

“Listen, your son has…certain abilities. He just has to learn how to control them,” Dean tried to explain. He felt like he was way out of his depth here, Sam was the one with the people skills. Always had been. And Cas…well, Cas was even more hopeless than he was.

“He killed them. He killed Jim and Roger.”

“Yes, he did.”

“He wanted to kill me.”

“Probably, but –“”

“Why?” Mrs. Miller almost screamed and Dean felt himself losing his temper. Was she even serious?

“Why? Because you and your family made his life hell. I’m sorry to say this but I think he just wants revenge for what you did to him.” _Not that that’s any excuse,_ he added in his mind. A part of him could understand where Max was coming from. Dean remembered every single time John took a swing at him. Remembered every beating he took. When John was drunk or angry or disappointed. It had taken him a long time to understand that that was not okay. What John had done, was wrong. And a part of him wanted revenge for that too. Revenge for the life that had been taken from him. But he also knew that that wouldn’t make a difference. Not now. Revenge wouldn’t make his mum come back. And it wouldn’t give him a normal life. Whatever normal meant.

There was a loud bang, coming from downstairs, Dean could hear steps approaching and seconds later, the door swung open. Without even thinking about it, Dean stood up and watched as Max strode into the room, looking determined, focused. Dean dared to step forward but was thrown back by a Max’ power. His back hit the wall hard and he could hear Alice screaming.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean groaned while he got back up on his feet.

He saw that Max was holding the gun again, calmer this time. He exchanged a look with Cas, trying to tell him what he would do, before approaching Max. Except, Max had let go of the gun and now it was floating in mid-air, pointing at him. Dean’s eyes grew wide and he stopped, unsure of what to do. Dean heard the clicking of the safety, before the gun swung around towards Alice.

“Max,” Alice said weakly and Dean quickly stepped in front of her.

“Stay back,” Max demanded, “It’s not about you.”

“You wanna kill her, you gotta go through me first,” Dean said and he could practically hear Cas groaning internally.  

“Okay.”

Dean’s eyes were fixed on the gun, waiting for the shot to go off. But it never came. The door was slammed open, “No don’t. Don’t,” Sam shouted and Dean was never happier for seeing his brother, “Please. Please, Max.”

Max focus was on Sam, while the gun still hung in the air.

“We can help you,” Sam’s voice was soft, careful and no one else dared to move.

For a second, just one second, it seemed like Sam had made it. Like he had broken through to Max.

“You’re right,” the boy said and before Dean could even process what was happening the gun swung around and the trigger was pulled, shooting a bullet right through Max’s head.

* * *

 

By the time the police had arrived, Sam, Cas and Dean were long gone.

“Hey, you alright?” Dean asked his brother.

“Yeah,” Sam sighed. “It’s just, if I had said something else. Gotten through to him somehow…”

“Don’t do that. Don’t torture yourself.”

“Dean is right, Sam. Max made a choice. It is not your fault,” Cas agreed.

Sam stayed quiet, obviously not convinced.

“Come on, let’s get back on the road,” Dean said and stared the car to get far, far away from Saginaw, Michigan.

 


	6. When It Rains, It Pours (And Everybody Stumbles)

The next time, Sam had a premonition, was a few months later in early September in Guthrie, Oklahoma.

They met Andy Gallagher, and although he was a strange kid, Dean actually liked him but that whole thing with Sam’s visions still freaked him out; no offence.

They didn’t talk about it, and Sam probably knew that it was wrong. People didn’t just start having dreams about the future, but whatever. They did their job and that was it. Other cases were more to Dean’s taste, like the wishing well in Washington or the Witch in Iowa; still, Dean had a bad feeling. He couldn’t even say about what exactly, just that it was there, every time he looked at Sam.

The way his brother’s eyes turned cold and hollow whenever he thought no one was looking.

The way he obsessed with finding the Demon that had killed their mum and Jess.

Just like dad.

* * *

 

“I don’t know man, it’s been like almost a year since dad went missing. You’d think we would have found him by now,” Dean sighed, taking a right turn.

“Are you giving up?” Sam asked incredulously from where he was sitting in the backseat..

Dean threw a glance at Sam through the rear-view mirror. “No,” he said carefully, “I’m just saying that he probably doesn’t wanna be found.”

“Or maybe we’re not trying hard enough,” Sam argued.

“Why do you care, anyway? You left, remember? You hated him for the way he treated us. What changed?”

“I’m starting to think that maybe, dad was right. The way he raised us. I mean, sure it wasn’t easy but at least he kept us safe.”

Dean chocked on his own spit and almost turned around in his seat to really look at his brother. “Wow,” he said after he had somewhat caught himself. “Never thought I’d hear you say those words.”

“Well, you’re obviously not going to say them,” Sam muttered under his breath but still loud enough for Dean to hear him.

“What is that supposed to mean?” the older Winchester snapped, ignoring the sigh Cas let out from next to him.

“It means,” Sam began, “That I think you don’t want to find him. Not really. You’ve got Cas, and if dad’s back he won’t be happy about that and you know it. I think you’re scared.”

“Phew, I’m not scared.” Except he was. He had put so much effort into hiding his relationship with Cas that it terrified him to think, John might find out.

“Yeah right.”

They had just crossed the border between Texas and Oklahoma, when both Cas’ and Dean’s phones rang. While Dean was still fishing for his, Cas was already answering his call.

“Hello Ellen,” he said, “No. I haven’t seen her in months.”

Finally, Dean got his own phone and saw that he had gotten a text message from an unknown number.

“Jo is a tough girl, I’m sure she’ll be alright.”

With a frown, Dean stared at the text.

“Of course. I’ll be there as quick as I can.”

Dean put the phone away and looked over at his boyfriend, “What’s wrong?” he asked, “Ellen doing okay?”

“Ellen’s fine, it’s Jo. She’s missing.”

“So? Dude, she always does what she wants.”

“She left without taking anything with her. Even her dad’s knife is still in her room.”

“Okay, that doesn’t sound good,” Dean admitted. Jo never went anywhere without that knife.

“Can you drop me off somewhere? I’m going to Nebraska, talk to Ellen and then see if I can find her.”

“Sure thing. I – er – I got a text. I think it’s from dad.”

“What?” Sam exclaimed, “How’d you know?”

Instead of answering, Dean simply gave him the phone.

“43-94? What is this? Coordinates?”

“Probably. I think he wants us to go there.”

“Well, what are you waiting for then?”

“Calm down, Sammy. First, we gotta find out where that is and we have to find Cas a car.”

Nonetheless, Dean accelerated because this was their first real lead on their dad.

* * *

 

They made a quick stop at the Roadhouse where they had Ash check the coordinates while Ellen told them about Jo.

“Yesterday, she came back from a Hunt. Everything was fine, she said she’d take a shower and then we wanted to have dinner. She never showed. I thought maybe, she’d got a call from you guys,” Ellen explained. She seemed calm but the half empty bottle of whisky next to her told a different story.

“We didn’t call her Ellen,” Cas said softly. They were sitting at the bar, each with their own beers while Ellen empty her whisky.

“Yeah, well, I know that now.”

“We’ll find her, Ellen. I promise.”

“Thanks boys.”

 In that moment, Ash came back with a smug grin on his face, “Dr. Badass is in the house!” he exclaimed, “Guys, I really don’t know what you got yourselves into again, but this ain’t good.”

“What is it, Ash?” Dean asked, turning around on his chair.

“Pastor Jim Murphy from Blue Earth, Minnesota, was found dead in his church, throat slit. Traces of sulphur all over the place,” Ash explained unnecessarily gleeful.

“Wait, Jim? Pastor Jim?” Sam asked.

Ash nodded. “Yeah, you know him?”

“Dad used to bring us there in between Hunts when we were kids. He was a good guy.”

“Well he ain’t anymore. Poor bastard must have pissed someone off big time.”

“Or maybe it’s a trap,” Dean considered, taking a sip from his beer, he really didn't like the sound of any of this.

“What? How?” Sam asked, turning to face his brother.

“Think about it, Sam,” he began, “Jim was a friend of dad. Whoever killed him probably knew that.”

“We still got to go if that’s where we can find dad,” Sam argued, looking eager and determined.

Dean pulled a grimace and emptied his beer. “Yeah, I know,” he muttered.

As much as Dean would have liked to stay at the Roadhouse, his only home next to Bobby’s, they had to leave sooner or later. Saying their goodbyes to Ellen and Ash, Sam and Dean walked outside with Cas not far behind.

“Be careful,” the brunet told Dean right before he got into the car, “And call me when you find your dad.”

“Same goes for you,” Dean muttered. He could feel the others watching them, making him edgy and self-conscious, but he ignored it. They shared one last kiss before Dean got into the car and started the engine.

* * *

 

It took them about seven hours to get to Blue Earth.

Dean still remembered the small church with its colourful windows and the organ in the back; remembered the hours he and Sam had spent there and the care with which the pastor and Hunter had looked after them.

“Come on, Sam,” he said roughly before entering the church. Everything was quiet inside and the backroom where Jim had his weapons was empty.

“Dean, I don’t think we will find anything –” Sam started but cut himself off when they heard steps coming down the stairs. Sam and Dean stared at the gate, waiting for whoever it was that came down them, hands on their weapons, ready to be drawn and Dean couldn’t help but think that there was something distinctively familiar in the way the boots hit the ground –

“Dad?”

John Winchester stood there, half in the shadow, looking at them.

“Sam? Dean?” There was disbelief in their father’s voice. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“You told us to come. The text you sent me?” Dean said but there was doubt nagging at him, doubt that maybe –

“I didn’t send you a text, Dean.” John shook his head.

\- It hadn’t been John that had sent that text.

“Well, then who did?” he asked, knowing perfectly well that John probably didn’t know the answer to that. Instead of replying, their dad simply turned around and walked away; Dean and Sam exchanged a curious look before following him.

“What’s going, dad?” Sam asked.

John kept walking. “You shouldn’t’ve come here,” he snapped at the youngest Winchester.

“What were we supposed to do?” Dean questioned, “We get a text message with coordinates, you’re the only one who does that, so excuse us for thinking that maybe you decided to meet up with us,” he hissed angrily; it was all he could do, not to raise his voice because _this_ was making him angry. _This_ was why he preferred Hunting with Cas, because with him he didn’t have to justify everything he did. He didn’t have to be scared to make mistakes because Cas understood. Cas would have been happy to see him. John didn’t react to Dean’s words so Dean did the next best thing he could think off and took a deep breath to calm himself down before gripping John’s arm and yanking him around. “Why _didn’t_ you decide to meet up with us? Where were you?” he asked.

“Not here, Dean. Meet me at the motel.” And with those words, John slammed the door of his car shut and drove off.

“What the fuck was that?” Dean muttered confused.

After getting in the Impala, they followed John through town to a small, shady motel, the kind of motel Dean would have never picked by himself.

“Dad.”

John stood in the middle of the motel room, staring at the walls which were covered in articles, pictures and maps.

“This is it,” John pointed at the walls. “Everything I know about the Yellow-Eyed Demon. We’ve been searching for it for years now, never finding anything. Until now. Ten months ago, I picked up a trail.”

_That's when you dropped off the face of the earth,_ Dean thought bitterly.

“What was it? The trail?” Sam asked.

“There are signs. Everywhere the Demon showed up, Cattle deaths, temperature fluctuations, electrical storms. It started in Arizona, then New Jersey, California. Houses burned down to the ground. It's going after families, just like it went after us.”

“Families with infants?” 

“Six months old,” John confirmed and finally he turned around to look at his sons. Sam had sat down at the table while Dean leaned against the bookshelf.

His brother's face went completely blank. “So, it comes for the kids? Like it came for me? Mum. Jessica. They died because of me?” he wanted to know. There was something desperate about the way his voice tightened and Dean felt his big – brother instincts kicking in.

“You didn’t kill them, Sam. It wasn’t your fault,” Dean tried to remind his brother but of course, Sam wasn’t listening.

“That’s enough,” John interrupted them and sat down opposite to Sam, “Listen, I wish I could tell you more, but I can’t. All know is that it’s happening again.”

“Where?” Dean questioned.

“Salvation, Iowa.”

* * *

 

Dean had just called Cas when they arrived in Salvation.

“Hey Cas, how’s it going?” he smiled at the windshield.

“ _Not well. Did you find your father?_ ” Cas asked and Dean sighed.

“Yeah. Turns out, it wasn’t him that sent me the text.” he replied.

_“Be careful then, it could be a trap.”_

“Yes, thank you, Caption Obvious. Anyway, we’re in Iowa now, dad said the Demon might be here.”

_“Good luck.”_

“Thanks Cas. You too.”

Dean put the phone away and pulled over to the side of the road, right behind John.

“So, what’s the plan here?” he asked his father.

“We don’t have much time, so I say we check every hospital for children that turn six months within the next couple o’ days,” John suggested.

“Sounds good.” _And like a shit ton of work,_ he added in thoughts but there was no better plan so he just went with it.

They split up and Dean flirted his way through the hospital to get the birth certifications, which, admittedly, was fun.

* * *

 

It was about an hour later, when they met up in their new motel. As soon as Dean had walked through the door, he could feel the tension in the room – Sam looked outright awful and John seemed angry. Fuming.

“Did you know about this?” their father barked as soon as he saw his older son.

“About what?” Dean asked, taken aback.

“Sam’s…visions?” he spat out the word like something acid and Dean could see Sam flinching ever so slightly.

Immediately, he stepped between them. “Yeah I did,” he answered calmly.

“And you didn’t think this was something you should have told me?” John was outraged now and Dean wasn’t far behind.

“When were we supposed to tell you?" Dean shot back, "When you gave us shit for finding you in Minnesota? When you were completely MIA for a fucking year?! I tried calling you, dad. I tried calling you so many times but you never picked up the fucking phone!” he yelled, realizing too late that that was probably a mistake.

One did not simply yell at John Winchester.

“I don’t like that tone of yours, boy,” John threatened, before taking a deep breath, “But I admit, this probably isn’t your fault. I’m sorry.”

Dean nodded and they all took a deep breath to calm down. It was Sam that broke the silence first.

“We didn’t know what it meant. It started out as nightmares and now I get them when I’m awake and the closer I get to anything involving the Demon, the stronger they get,” he explained.

“What did you see anyway?” Dean asked and Sam began to explain about a woman named Monica and her daughter Rosie, “We know it will happen tonight,” he stated, “And that family is going through hell if we don’t stop it.”

“We will. This is not going to happen again. Ever.” There was conviction in John’s voice and Dean felt himself relaxing. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that their father was with them.

“What are we going to do?”

“We kill it.”

“How? You can’t kill a Demon.”

John shifted uncomfortably, his hand wandering to his inside pocket of his jacket.

“Dad, if there’s something you know then –”

“I have the Colt,” John admitted.

Both, Sam and Dean stared at John with wide eyes.

_“The_ Colt? Samuel Colt’s Colt?” Dean asked in utter disbelief.

“Yes.”

“I thought that was just a story.”

“It’s not. I’ve been searching for it for years. Finally tracked it down with a nest of Vampires a few weeks ago.”

_Well,_ Dean thought. _That surely changes things._ He knew the legends of course; everyone did, but just like everyone, he had thought that that was all they were. Legends.

It was then, that Dean’s phone rang. For a moment, he hoped that it was Cas, but it wasn’t.

“Hello?” he asked.

“ _Dean_ ,” a very familiar voice prompted.

“Jo?”

“ _Not quiet, although Jo says ‘hi’, she’s a fierce one. I’m a friend of your brother, maybe you should tell him not to brag about his secrets to random strangers at a bar. Now, let me speak to your daddy._ ” Jo’s voice was cold, emotionless and Dean could feel something inside him break.

“Dad? No idea where he is.”

“ _You’re a horrible liar, Dean. Let me talk to him. Right. Now.”_

Dean threw a glance towards his dad, who seemed confused but nodded slightly. Dean gave him the phone and turned towards Sam.

“This is John,” he heard his father say, but his focus was on his brother who looked strangely guilty.

“What did she mean?” Dean whispered urgently, “Bragging about your secrets to strangers in bars?”

“Listen, Dean, I can explain,” Sam answered defensively.

“I’m all ears.”

“Remember that fight we had in Oklahoma? Right before Osiris took us?” Dean nodded. Of course, he remembered. “I went to a bar and there was that woman, Meg, and we talked and I – I don’t really remember. I was drunk but I think I told her about Jess. How she died and I felt guilty and…other stuff. I think that’s how Osiris found me in the first place; must have overheard us.” Sam’s eyes were cast to the ground in shame. “I’m sorry, Dean.”

Dean opened his mouth to say something when John suddenly raised his voice, “Caleb?”

Both Sam and Dean swivelled around at the name. “Listen to me. He's got nothing to do with anything. You let him go,” he demanded. “I don’t know what you are talking about.” Dean frowned as he saw how his father’s face changed from anger to shock. “Caleb! Caleb!” he shouted and Dean shuddered. He had met Caleb only a couple of times but he was a good Hunter. Or had been, probably.

 “I'm gonna kill you, you know that?” John hissed, followed by a long pause. Too long. “Okay,” he finally said and Dean wondered what it was that he had agreed to. Whatever it was, he bet Baby that it wasn’t anything good. “I said okay, I'll bring you the Colt.” _What?_ “It's gonna take me about a days drive to get there. - That's impossible. I can't get there in time and I can't just carry a gun on the plane.”

Slowly, John lowered the phone, a look of defeat on his face.

“Dad, what was that? What did she want?”

“The Colt. They know I have it”

“How?” Sam asked incredulously.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m going to Lincoln.”

Dean sputtered, “What?”

“It doesn't look like we have a choice. If I don't go, a lot of people die, our friends die.” There was a hint of desperation in John’s voice and Dean didn’t like it. Apparently, neither did Sam, “Dad, the Demon is coming tonight. For Monica and her family. That gun is all we got, you can't just hand it over,” he argued and Dean nodded along in agreement.

“Who said anything about handing it over. Look, besides us and a couple of vampires, no one’s really seen the gun, no one knows what it looks like”

“So what, you're just going to pick up a ringer at a pawn shop?”

“Antique store,” John remarked and…well…Dean wasn’t exactly convinced.

“You're going to hand that Demon bitch a fake gun and hope she doesn't notice?”

“Look, as long as it's close, she shouldn't be able to tell the difference.”

“Yeah but for how long?” Dean questioned, “What happens when she figures it out?”

“I just...I just need to buy a few hours, that's all.”

Dean definitely wasn’t convinced.

“You mean for Dean and me,” Sam chipped in, “You want us to stay here, and kill this Demon by ourselves?”

John shook his head. “No Sam. I want to stop losing people we love. I want you to go to school, I want Dean to have a home. I want...I want Mary alive. It's just...I just want this to be over.”

* * *

 

Dean ended up being the one with the task to find a gun similar to the Colt; he took the chance to check in with Cas and tell him the bad news.

“ _Hello Dean,”_ Cas’ gravelly voice sounded through the phone.

“Hey Cas,” Dean greeted him flatly.

“ _What’s wrong?_ ” Cas had immediately noticed Dean’s hesitation, the tightness in his voice, the tiredness he felt.

“It’s er…it’s Jo,” Dean muttered.

“ _What about her?_ ” Dean could practically her the head tilt Cas probably did right now and usually he would have smiled, laughed, anything except this wasn’t usually and he more felt like crying than anything else. “ _Dean?_ ”

“You can stop looking for her. I know where she is.”

“ _Why do I get the feeling that that is bad news?_ ”

“’Cause it is? God, Cas…Jo’s possessed.”

_“By a Demon?”_

“Yeah.”

_“How do you know?”_

“’Cause I just spoke to her. She killed a guy to get to dad, told him to meet him in Lincoln.”

“ _Is he going?_ ” Cas inquired.

“Yes,” Dean confirmed and then cursed himself for saying that. “Listen Cas, whatever you do, don’t go there. I know what you’re thinking, but don’t. It’s too dangerous.”

“ _I think I can handle myself, Dean.”_

“I know that, just…please, man…I need you alive, okay?”

“ _I love you too, Dean._ ”

The line went dead and Dean groaned. What had he done?

* * *

 

When he met up with John and Sam again, they did a quick exchange of weapons. The gun Dean had gotten wouldn’t fool anyone who had seen the real Colt but that wasn’t the point. They just needed time. Still...There were so many things that could go wrong, so many answers they still didn’t have. Why was the Demon doing this? What did it want?

They stood on a muddy back road and, somehow, this felt like goodbye.

“Promise me something,” Dean requested before he could stop himself.

“What’s that?”

“This thing goes south just...get the hell out. Don't get yourself killed all right, you're no good to us dead.”

It shouldn’t have been so hard to say that but for some reason it was. For the first time Dean knew, actually knew, what Sam had meant when he had said that Dean was different. He was no longer John’s little soldier but his own man and there was too much between him and his father. Too many words they never said. Too much guilt and anger and disappointment. Too many secrets.

“Same goes for you,” John replied eventually.

They watched him pull off, perfectly knowing that this might have been the last time they ever saw each other.

 


	7. Stuck here In Between The Shadows Of My Yesterday

After Sam and Dean had returned to the motel, Dean tried calling Cas again but he didn’t answer the phone; instead Dean got himself and Sam a beer and sat down on the bed opposite to his brother.

“You think he’ll be okay?” Sam asked after sipping at the bottle.

“Sure.” That wasn’t even a lie, Dean really did think that John would be okay. He always was.

“You know,” Sam began, “You should probably tell Ellen about Jo.”

“Yeah, pretty sure Cas already did that,” Dean mumbled, mostly because he really didn’t want to be the one to tell Ellen. The woman was an angel, but he was still a bit scared of her and he definitely felt guilty. It was his fault that Jo started Hunting in the first place after all.

 

_“Cas,” he choked out and the Hunter smiled._

_“Hello, Dean.”_

_Cas stepped forward, stretching his hand out to help Dean up._

_“You’re a Hunter?” Dean asked while getting to his feet._

_“As are you.”_

_“How’d you know I’d be here?”_

_“I didn’t.” For a moment Cas seemed to be surprised about something but it passed as quickly as it had come. “We should leave before someone calls the police.” Cas pointed towards the three dead Witches on the floor and Dean nodded._

_They made a quick exit and went back to Dean’s motel room._

_“Thanks,” Dean said and handed Cas a beer, “You know. For saving my life.”_

_“I’m glad I did.” Cas smiled at him before taking a sip from the bottle._

_“You Hunting alone?”_

_“Yes. I go to the Roadhouse if I need help.”_

_“The Roadhouse?”_

_“In Nebraska. Ellen Harvelle and her daughter Jo run it, it’s a good place for Hunters.”_

_“Never heard of it. Dad’s got his own connections.”_

_“I can take you there if you want,” Cas offered and Dean frowned, unsure of what to say, “Or I could…stay the night?” Those damn blue eyes were once again fixed on Dean and there was the trace of a suggestive smirk around the corner of his eyes._

Well, _Dean thought,_ at least I know how to do this. _He smirked back and slowly approached Cas, taking the beer from his hand._

_“Subtlety isn’t your strength, is it?” he asked and Cas laughed._

_“Do I need to be subtle?” Was it just Dean or had Cas’ voice just become even deeper?_

_“Nah.”_

_Their faces were merely inches apart now and Dean wasn’t sure who closed the gap but he found himself with a mouthful of Cas while the other Hunter pulled him into his lap._

_When Dean woke up the next morning he was a bit confused. Why was an arm draped around his body? It took him a second to remember what had happened the previous night. Then he was confused because Cas was still there. He turned around and was met by a pair of blue eyes._

_“Morning sunshine,” Dean whispered, “I thought you’d be gone by now.”_

_“Do you want me to go?” Cas asked, cocking an eyebrow at Dean._

_“Not really.”_

_It should have been awkward. The morning after was always awkward. The thing was, it wasn’t. Dean felt comfortable, more comfortable than he had felt in months and it scared him a bit but it also made him smile._

_“You wanna get breakfast?” Cas asked eventually._

_“Sure.”_

_They both got up to get dressed and twenty minutes later sat in a cheap diner with a plate full of eggs and bacon in front of them._

_“So, tell me Cas, how’d you get into all this? If I can ask?”_

_“I’ve always had a lot of imagination. As a child, I believed in all the stories about Werewolves, Vampires and stuff. When I was 18, my parents were killed. Demons. I watched it happen and they tried to kill me too but somehow, I got away, don’t ask me how. No one believed me when I said the attackers had pitch-black eyes but I knew I didn’t imagine it. I wasn’t crazy. I found the Roadhouse and Ellen told me everything I needed to know and I then I just started hitting the road.”_

_“Sorry about your parents.”_

_“Me too. But I believe that they are in a better place now. What about you?”_

_“My mum, she – er, she died when I was four. Also, a Demon, although at that point we didn’t know that. Dad’s obsessed with finding it, killing it.”_

_Cas frowned, “You can’t kill a Demon,” he said._

_“Dad thinks there is a way. There’s this story, back in 1835, Samuel Colt built a weapon, designed to kill Demons. He’s been looking for it for years now.”_

_“Is that where he is now? Looking for the weapon?”_

_“I dunno. He was with me on this but got a call from a friend who said they had a lead on the Demon that killed mum.” Dean shrugged. He didn’t really want to talk about dad. “Anyway, that Roadhouse…”_

_They talked a lot more, changing stories about Hunts they’ve been on, things they’d seen and the more they talked the more Dean began to like the other man. He was a bit strange, too serious at times and he didn’t talk much but he listened, and Dean quickly found out that he knew a lot about pretty much everything._

_“Do you want to come with me? I’m going back to Nebraska, I promised Ellen I’d check in with her when this job was over.”_

_Dean hesitated for a moment, he hardly knew this guy, but then again, what else was he supposed to do? “Alright,” he said, “Just give me a second.” He walked out and tried to call his dad who wasn’t answering his phone, no surprise there, really; instead he called the next best person._

_“_ What? I’m busy _,” a rough voice said at the other end of the line._

_“The hell you are, Bobby. You’re never busy,” Dean laughed._

“Dean? Damn, son, it’s been a while.”

_“I know, I know. Sorry. Been working a job. Listen, you ever heard about a Hunter named Castiel Milton?”_

“Doesn’t ring a bell, why?”

_“Just met him, I wanted to see if he checks out. What about the Roadhouse?”_

“Of course, I know the Roadhouse, everyone does.”

_“Well, I don’t.”_

_“_ Yeah, John would leave that out, wouldn’t he?” _Bobby muttered, “_ You headed there? _”_

_“Yeah. Just so you know where I am.”_

“Watch out for yourself kiddo.”

_“I will, Bobby. Call you later.”_

_It was already getting dark again when they pulled up to the Roadhouse._

_“Nice,” he commented when he saw the bar._

_“Wait till you see it from the inside.”_

_Cas was right, the Roadhouse was…homey. Dean couldn’t think of another word for it._

_“Cas!” a blonde girl of maybe 16 ran towards them, right into Cas’ arms._

_“Hello Joanna,” Cas greeted her._

_“Don’t call me that.” Joanna glared at him but there was still a smile underneath and she couldn’t hold it for long before breaking. “It’s good to see you back. Who’s your friend?” she asked and eyes Dean with interest._

_“This is Dean. Dean, Jo.”_

_“It’s good to meet you too, Dean.” Jo winked at him and Dean wasn’t sure of he should laugh or not. He was used to being hit on by women, just not high school girls._

_“Joanna Beth get back to work!” a strict voice called out and Jo sighed and rolled her eyes before answering, “Yes, mum!”_

_The girl hurried back behind the counter and Cas and Dean followed her._

_“Cas!” a middle-aged woman, with long brown hair and a warm smile on her face approached them and closed her arms around Cas._

_“Ellen, this is Dean Winchester,” Cas introduced him._

_“Winchester?” Ellen asked with a frown, “Son of a bitch.”_

_Dean was highly confused; did she know him? “Sorry lady but…have we met?” he asked._

_“No. But I know your dad.”_

_“Has he been here?” Dean asked hopefully._

_“Not lately, no. In fact, haven’t seen him in 6 years. How is he?” there was something in her eyes that told Dean, she wasn’t asking out of genuine interest._

_“He’s fine,” he answered cautiously._

_“Is he now? Well that’s great. Anyway, what can I get you boys?” The change was rapid and Dean was even more confused but he decided to ignore it._

_“Two beers, please, Ellen.”_

_“Two beers coming right up.”_

_Dean looked around, seeing other Hunters, some of them cleaning their guns on the table, others doing research or just talking and drinking._

_“Nice place you’ve got here,” he said to Ellen when she places the beers in front of them._

_“Thanks. I took over after my Husband died.”_

_“Sorry to hear that.”_

_“It happens,” Ellen brushed it off but Dean could see the sadness in her eyes, “Anyway, what brings you boys here? How was that Hunt in Ohio?” she directed the last question at Cas._

_“Witches, like you said. I met Dean there, we were Hunting the same thing. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find out who gave them the Spellbook.”_

_“Don’t beat yourself up over that, boy. I’m sure you did a good job.”_

_“That he did,” Dean remarked, “I wouldn’t be here, if it wasn’t for him.”_

_“See? Good job.” Ellen smiled proudly at Cas and then went off to serve the other customers._

_Cas and Dean shared a moment of silence._

_“What will you do now?” Cas asked eventually._

_“No idea. Maybe there’s a case somewhere.” Dean shrugged. He hadn’t thought about that yet._

_“We could Hunt together.”_

_“You serious?”_

_“I like you, Dean.” And that, above all, was the strangest thing anyone had ever said to him. Dean felt himself blush slightly and he quickly looked away. “It’s an offer.”_

_“Cas –” Dean struggled for words and eventually he gave up. “I’ll think about it,” he said. The truth was, that he liked Cas too and that was why he was hesitating. He wasn’t supposed to like him._

_“Thank you.”_

Pretty soon after that, Cas and Dean had been in Pennsylvania on a case; a case that Jo had found but Ellen hadn’t wanted her to go on. Jo, stubborn as she always was, had followed them of course, gotten kidnapped by the ghost and nearly died. Ellen had blamed Dean. Hell, Dean had blamed Dean. And now she was possessed by a Demon. Good times.

“Come on,” Dean stood up to get rid of the memories, “It’s getting dark and we should get going.”

Sam nodded with a strange look on his face and together they left the room to save little Rosie and her family.


	8. But Later Doesn't Always Come

_»You’re never going to see your father again,”_ Jo said over the phone; except it wasn’t Jo. Still, Dean felt something incredibly cold running down his spine at the sound of the familiar voice. The voice of a girl that was like a sister to him.

Without further hesitation, Dean ended the call and dialled a new number.

“Dean what’s going on?” Sam urged but Dean just shook his head.

“Dammit, Cas! Pick up the fucking phone!” he swore but of course that didn’t work either. Frustrated, he threw his cell phone on the bed and ran his hand through his hair. “They’ve got dad,” he finally said.

“Meg?” Sam asked and Dean nodded, grateful that he had said Meg and not Jo because that would just sound worse. “What’d she say?”

“I just told you, Sammy,” Dean snapped back. He was on edge and the second he saw Sam flinch, he regretted raising his voice. This wasn’t Sam’s fault. “Sorry.”

Dean grabbed the Colt and walked towards the bed.

“Where are you going?” Sam asked while Dean grabbed his duffle bag

“We need to go.”

“Why?”

Dean paused and looked at his brother incredulously. “Because the Demon knows we’re in Salvation, all right? It knows we got the Colt. It’s got Dad – it’s probably coming for us next.”

“Good. We’ve still got three bullets left. Let it come.” The casualty with which Sam spoke really worried Dean. Didn’t Sam care that they were as good as dead if they stayed?

“We’re not ready!” Dean argued in exasperation and put on his jacket. Apparently not seeing any other option, Sam followed him reluctantly.

* * *

 

“Fucking finally!” Dean exclaimed when he answered the phone. They had just left the town when Cas called.

“ _Dean!_ ” There was urgency in Cas’ voice and Dean knew better then to speak now. “ _Go to the Roadhouse and whatever you do, do not leave!”_

“What? What the hell are you talking about? Where are you?”

_“Trying to save your dad. They want you to come, so don’t.”_

“That’s my dad you’re talking about, Cas. We can’t just do nothing.”

“ _You can if it means you stay alive. Please, Dean. I need you to stay alive._ ” Cas was practically begging now and there was a part inside Dean that wanted to do exactly what Cas had just said.

“What about you?” he asked instead.

“ _They won’t expect me to come. I’ll be fine._ ”

“Cas –” Dean started but was interrupted by Cas, “ _I love you, Dean._ ”

The line went dead.

“Son. Of a. _Bitch_.” Dean hit his hand against the wheel and accelerated towards Nebraska against his better judgement.

“Dean, what’s going on?” Sam asked concerned. “What’s Cas doing?”

“Getting himself killed,” Dean grunted. He didn’t want to talk about it; not now. Scratch that, he didn’t want to _think_ about that now. Luckily, Sam seemed to get the hint because he stopped asking questions and instead stared out of the window in silence.

It wasn’t a pleasant drive from Iowa to Nebraska and when Dean finally stopped the car in front of the Roadhouse, he was glad to get away from Sam and his brooding.

“Where is he?” Dean demanded as soon as he had stormed into the bar. “Cas. Where did he go?”

Absently, he noticed that the room was empty except for Ellen, Bobby, Ash, Jo, and a boy whom Dean didn’t know and normally he would have been relieved to see that Jo was okay but right now there were other things on his mind.

“Dean, you can’t –”

“Don’t tell me what I can and cannot do, Ellen!” Dean interrupted her, “Where did he go?”

“I won’t tell you,” Ellen insisted. She stepped forward, her arms crossed in front of her chest.

“Why?” the Winchester exclaimed.

“Because you’ll just race after him and end up dead.”

“Right. And it’s so much better when it’s Cas who dies, is it?” Dean felt anger rushing through him. He wanted to punch something, scream, anything, that was better than this.

“He won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“Because they expect _you_ to come, not him. You need to trust him, Dean,” Ellen explained calmly.

“I do trust him.” It was true, if there was one person he believed in, it was Cas. “I do, but Ellen, I –” Dean’s voice failed. It was too much.

“You’re scared.” It wasn’t a question and Dean didn’t respond. He couldn’t. Not in front of all this people, so instead he just glared at her. “You know Cas, he’ll be fine.”

He offered both him and Sam a beer.

“Yeah well, he’d be a lot better if I was there with him,” Dean snapped and took the bottle, almost emptying it in one swig before slamming it back onto the counter and walking out. He couldn’t breathe. Ellen was right, he _was_ scared. Scared for Cas. Scared for his dad. And the worst part was that there was nothing he could do, except wait.

Fortunately, no one came to check on him, so Dean spent the next hours alone on the hood of his car, staring at the driveway of the Roadhouse.

“Finally!”

A car, a dirty, black SUV, pulled over from the road and Dean quickly walked towards it. Once Cas had gotten out from behind the wheel, he shoved the man hard against the door, fury and relief battling inside him.

“What the hell, man?” It came out more like a broken whisper than anything else and because he really didn’t know what else to do, he pulled Cas in into a rough kiss.

“Dean –” Cas started but Dean shushed him, “Don’t. We can talk later, okay? I’m not angry – or actually I am. Furious, in fact, but…man I’m just glad you’re okay. Don’t you _ever_ do that again!”

There was a shy smile on Cas’ lips when he answered, “I can’t promise anything.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” Cas disagreed and stroked Dean’s hair before gently pulling away, “Your father is in the back seat. Help me?”

Together, they carried John into the Roadhouse and up the stairs to the guest bedroom.

“I’ll leave you alone for now,” Cas mumbled and left the room. It was just Sam, Dean and John now and finally, Dean allowed himself to relax. It was fine. Everything was fine.

“You okay?” Sam asked, without looking away from John.

“Yeah, you?”

“Yeah.”

Maybe it was five minutes, maybe half an hour, before John finally stirred. He opened his eyes and blinked lazily several times.

“Dean?” he groaned, “Sam?”

“It’s okay, Dad. We’re here.”

“Where’s the Colt?”

“Don’t worry. It’s safe.” It could have been funny that the first thing on John’s mind was the blasted gun, except, it sort of really wasn’t.

“What happened? In Salvation?” John sat up carefully, eyeing his sons.

“We missed him, dad. We saved the family but the Demon got away. We’ve only got three bullets left,” Dean explained, “I’m sorry.”

John shook his head while attempting to stand up.

“Don’t be sorry. I’m sure you did good. I’m proud of you, Dean,” John smiled warmly at his son and Dean blinked confused.

_What?_

He took a step back, looking at his father suspiciously. Suddenly, the light began to flicker and Dean cussed.

“It’s here. It’s found us.” John jumped to his feet and looked around. “Sam, salt lines, now,” he commanded and Sam nodded sharply while turning towards the door. Just when Sam had reached out for the door handle, it suddenly slammed shut.

“Crap!”

Sam tried opening the door, but it wouldn’t move.

“You got the gun?” John asked urgently.

“Yeah.” Dean pulled the Colt out of his jeans but something made him hesitate.

_I’m proud of you, Dean._

“What are you waiting for? Give it to me, Dean.”

Dean looked up from the gun at his father, his eyes narrowed slightly and he stepped back further.

_I’m proud of you, Dean._

“He’d be furious,” he finally muttered. He could see the confusion in Sam’s and John’s eyes but he ignored it. Something was wrong.

“What?” The incomprehension in John’s voice seemed genuine, still Dean shook his head

“I wasted a bullet. He wouldn’t be proud of me, he’d tear me a new one,” he explained. He knew his dad and he knew how he reacted to mistakes. Bracing himself, Dean slowly raised the Colt and pointed it at John, cocking it. “You’re not my Dad.”

“Dean, what the hell are doing?” Sam asked, fear seeping into his voice.

“Your brother’s lost his mind.”

“He’s not dad,” Dean repeated.

“Don’t listen to him, Sammy,” John threw in but Sam’s attention was on Dean, “How do you know?” he asked.

“Look at him. Really look. The way he speaks, the way he acts. He’s different.” There were a hundred knives turning in his gut, making him blind with pain and tears.

“For fuck’s sake! We don’t have time for this,” John exclaimed, “Sam, you wanna kill this Demon, you gotta trust me.”

Sam’s desperately looked forth and back between his father and his brother.

“Sam!”

But Sam didn’t listen to John. “No. No,” he muttered and stepped next to Dean.

“Well, you’re both so sure, go ahead. Kill me,” John said. His voice was calm, certain and suddenly, Dean wavered. He watched as his father cast his eyes down, awaiting the shot and Dean was sure it was the Demon because John had never, not in 25 years, told him that he was proud but…what if he was wrong? What if this was John and Dean shot him and -

“I thought so.” John’s voice was low, hardly audible but Dean understood every word.

_Come on, just do it!_ He told himself but it was already too late. John raised his head, eyes fixed on Dean. Yellow eyes. Suddenly, he was pushed against the wall and the weapon flew out of his hand and John – _not John, the Demon_ – smiled.

“You found me.”

Dean saw Sam fighting against the force binding them, saw his lips moving and his eyes glaring daggers at the Demon but he didn’t hear the words. He felt sick and disorientated and angry. Angry with John because why the hell had he left in the first place and angry with Sam for having a chance at living a life away from all this and angry with Cas for risking his life for Dean. Again. But most of all, Dean was angry with himself. He should have known better than to let John go off to Lincoln all by himself. He should have been there.

“I wanna know why. Why’d you do it?” The desperation in Sam’s voice made Dean snap out of his thoughts.

“You mean why did I kill mommy and pretty, little Jess?” the Demon sneered, “You want to know why? Because they got in the way.”

“In the way of what?” Sam asked confused.

“My plans for you, Sammy. You... and all the children like you,” the Demon smirked, “Should have been a whole lot sooner too but something wasn’t right. Something hid you from my sight, I wanna know what, so it doesn’t happen again.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Fair enough.”

With a swift movement, the Demon turned around towards Dean, smiling and before he even knew what was happening, he felt pain, like he had never felt before, swelling in his chest, like his heart was slowly being ripped out of him.

“Dean! Dean, no!” Sam’s voice was a million miles away, the only thing that was real was the blood spilling out of his mouth and the numbness spreading in his head. It was the Demon’s power that held him upright against the wall, its will that kept him barely alive and he wanted to scream and beg and shout, he wanted to tell his father that he was sorry but no sound came out of his mouth.

“Stop.” It was nothing more than a broken whisper, forcing its way over John’s lips but suddenly his eyes weren’t yellow anymore, or maybe Dean was just imagining that. Maybe he was already dead. He heard Sam talking from an endless distance and John was answering and he heard a banging against the door but he couldn’t see anymore; everything was blurry and faint. Suddenly, there was a shot, tearing through the ringing in his ears and Dean dropped to his knees; he tried to breath, open his eyes, anything. Voices calling his name, hands touching him.

“Where’s dad?” he slurred.

“He’s right here.” Sammy. Definitely Sammy, crouching next to him.

“Check on him.” It was all Dean could force out before he felt the darkness closing in again.


	9. So It Goes

_He sat on a table in a warehouse, the walls painted with symbols and sigils, in his hand he held a knife._

_“You sure you did the ritual right?” he asked and looked over to Bobby who was sitting on the other table, giving him and exasperated look. “Sorry, touchy, touchy, huh?”_

_Tiredness was claiming his body and he rubbed his hand over his face when suddenly there was loud, rattling sound from above them._

_“Wishful thinking but…maybe that’s the wind,” Dean muttered but still he followed Bobby’s example and slid off the table, shotgun in his hand. The lightbulbs exploded and Dean could feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins, right before the doors burst open and Dean saw the shape of a man slowly walking towards them. Dean pulled the trigger. Shot after shot hit the man but he kept walking. Swearing under his breath, Dean grabbed the knife._

_“Who are you?”_

_“I’m the one who gribbed you tight and raised you from perdition.”_

* * *

 

Dean opened his eyes. He smelled wood and dust and old coffee mixed with beer and whisky. The bed on which he lay was soft and comfortable, the air warm. With a low groan, he sat up and looked around. Undoubtfully, he was in one of Ellen’s guestrooms.

_Am I dead?_

The door creaked slightly when he pushed it open and he stopped to listen. Voices coming from downstairs. Carefully, Dean went on, following the sounds and the closer he got to the bar, the stronger the scent of alcohol and cigarettes got.

“-still haven’t heard anything of –” Dean stood in the door to the bar, enjoying the deep gravel of Cas’ voice when he spotted Dean. The glass Cas had been holding slid out of his hand and shattered on the floor and Cas was staring at Dean as if he was seeing a ghost; except, Cas wasn’t scared of ghost. All colour had been drained from the man’s face and his eyes were wide in shock.

“Cas? What –” Ellen and Bobby turned around to see what Cas was looking at and they, too, froze.

_What the hell is going on?_ Dean wondered and stepped closer.

“Dean?” Ellen asked in disbelief.

“Last time I checked,” Dean answered, “What’s wrong?”

All three Hunters blinked at him and Dean began to feel very self-conscious. Slowly, Bobby glided off the stool he had been sitting on and approached Dean and before the younger man could even register what was happening, a surge of water hit his face.

“Not a Demon, Bobby,” Dean exclaimed exasperatedly.

“Sorry son, had to check,” Bobby muttered but still he seemed cautious, almost nervous. Again, Dean’s eyes were drawn to Cas who still hadn’t said a word.

“Cas?” he asked carefully.

“How?” It was barely a whisper but Dean heard him as if he had yelled.

“What do you mean?” Dean asked in response. He really had no clue why they were all behaving so strangely, except…how long had he been out?

“Dean, what’s the last thing you remember?” Ellen inquired.

“Er…I was upstairs with Sammy and dad was possessed by the Demon. I don’t know what happened after that. Where are Sam and dad, anyway?” he asked, but was only met with more blank stares and silence. “What? What is it?”

“Dean,” Cas began hoarsely, “That was four days ago.”

Now it was Dean’s turn to stare blankly, “What?”

“You died, Dean. The Demon killed you and…and you were dead.” It almost physically hurt Dean to see so much pain in Cas’ eyes and he swallowed hard.

“But – I –” he stammered, “That’s impossible.”

Cas huffed, the shock in his eyes, slowly giving way to anger. “I was with you, Dean. I held you in my arms when your heart stopped beating. I sat by your side for _hours_ , praying, begging for you to come back. I thought you left me!” he shouted. Quickly, Dean strode over to Cas and lay both hands on his shoulders and the way Cas flinched hurt more than anything else Dean could imagine at the moment.

“Cas. Cas look at me,” he demanded and his boyfriend slowly raised his head, meeting Dean’s eyes, “I’m right here. I’m alive and I’m _not_ going to leave you.” Dean cupped Cas’ face with his hands, ignoring the tears burning in his eyes. “I love you.”

Cas smiled. He, too, was crying but he smiled and Dean could feel a ton of weight being lifted from his shoulders when Cas pulled him in into a desperate kiss.

“Alright boys, keep it civil,” Bobby grumbled but there was fondness underneath and Dean couldn’t help but smile while he pressed his forehead against Cas’. Gently, he pulled away and faced Bobby and Ellen.

“Where are dad and Sam?” he asked finally; the others exchanged uncomfortable looks before Ellen answered, “We don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“Exactly what it says on the tin. Dean – after… _after_ , we were all pretty shaken up,” Cas explained, “We wanted to burn you, but John threatened us, said that whoever touched your body would be the one burning in the end and Sam…he just took the car and left.”

“What, and you just let him go?” Dean asked in disbelief.

“We didn’t let him do anything, son. But you try stopping Sam when he’s got his mind on something. Cas almost got his nose broken while trying,” Bobby said.

“Shit.”

“Yeah, you could say that.”

“Well, do you have any idea where he is now?”

“Sam don’t wanna be found.”

“We’ll see about that,” Dean muttered. It was a lot to take in but he didn’t have time to dwell on the mystery of his lack of death right now; not with Sam out there.

“I’ll try calling him again,” Bobby said and went to the phone, “Hey Sam, it’s me again and I swear if you don’t call me back soon…there’s something you should know about Dean and I’ll be damned if I tell you this over the phone, so call me, ya –” the rest of Bobby’s words were drowned by the sound of the door bursting open.

“Mum! Mum!” Jo came running in, screaming, and when she saw Dean she stopped dead, gaping at him.

“Hey Jo,” Dean greeted her as casual as possible.

“Fuck,” was all Jo said.

“Jo, what happened?” Ellen asked and stepped towards her daughter but she ignored her, instead she kept looking at Dean, a pained expression on her face.

“Dean…” she started, “It’s you dad. He’s dead.”


	10. But Don't Forget, There'll Be Hell To Pay

Isn’t it strange how in a situation of shock, the human brain can simply refuse to take in information?

_It’s you dad. He’s dead._

Jo’s words were echoing in his head but it was like they were in another language. A language, Dean didn’t understand.

_It’s you dad. He’s dead._

He stood in the middle of the Roadhouse, staring dumbfoundedly at Jo.

_It’s you dad. He’s dead._

He could feel everyone’s eyes resting on him, he was sure that someone was talking but he didn’t hear anything except his own heartbeat and Jo’s words repeating in his head, over and over and over again.

_It’s you dad. He’s dead._

_It’s you dad. He’s dead._

_It’s you dad. He’s dead._

“Dean.” It was Cas’ hand on his arm, squeezing gently that pulled Dean back to reality. Without saying a word, Dean walked out of the door, seeing two people on the floor; John was lying on his back, his eyes closed, like he was only sleeping, next to him kneeled a boy, the same one that had been at the Roadhouse four days ago, crying.

“He did this,” his voice was raw and low but he knew that Cas had heard him, “He’s the reason I’m alive.”

“You mean, you think he –” Cas didn’t end the sentence. He didn’t have to.

“Yeah.” Dean nodded. “Fucking son of a bitch made a deal.”

“It’s not your fault.” And _dammit Cas_ , _why do you always know exactly what is going through my mind?_

“How is it not?” Dean shot back.

“You didn’t ask him to do this. This was his decision.”

“Yeah right, ‘cause that makes it so much better,” Dean snapped, “Who’s the kid?”

“Adam, he –” Jo began to explain but Dean cut her off.

“You know what? I don’t care. Fuck this shit.” He stalked off, not even knowing where it was he was going.

“He’s your half-brother!” Jo yelled behind him and Dean froze.

_What?_

They were all looking at him, even Adam.

“What?” He turned around, everyone staring at him, even Adam.

“Adam,” Jo repeated, “He’s your half-brother.”

“Are you _fucking_ kidding me?” Dean gaped at Jo, then at the rest of them, hoping that someone might yell ‘April’s Fool’, except it wasn’t April and no one seemed to think this was a joke.

“Why don’t we take John inside,” Bobby suggested and Dean was painfully reminded that he had just lost his father. Still fuming, Dean walked back to John’s lifeless body and carried him inside with Cas’ help; they lay him down on the bed Dean had woken up in, not so long ago, and joined the others at the bar where Ellen was pouring out whisky.

“Alright, I’m listening,” Dean grumbled, his eyes fixed on Adam who seemed to be unable to meet Dean’s gaze but still answered in a low, timid voice.

“I didn’t meet dad until a few years ago,” the kid answered, “Mum never talked about him but I knew stuff.”

“What stuff?” Dean asked gruffly.

“My mum was a nurse and he came into the ER pretty torn up and I knew his name was John Winchester. That’s about it. She still had his number though and when I was twelve I begged her to call him. He didn’t even know I existed, but once he’d heard he dropped everything and rushed to town; I mean I didn’t know him well, he came to visit once or twice a year, called a few times. He taught me poker and pool and showed me how to drive.” Adam shrugged. “He was everything I had left. Mum died last year. Car accident.”

Dean stayed silent, he didn’t know what to say. Despite his instinct to mistrust this kid, he believed him; if only because the others seemed to do so. He took a closer look at the boy; he was tall, with short, dark, blonde hair and his eyes had something in them. Something strangely familiar.

“Alright.” He relaxed a bit but maybe that was because of the whisky, or the fact that Cas was drawing smoothing patterns on his back with his hand. “Alright.”

* * *

 

The sun was slowly setting and the fire burned bright against the dark of the forest. Dean was a bit drunk, not that he cared, who wanted to see their dad’s cremation while sober, anyway? It was strange; he had spent so many years loving John, only to hate him afterwards, and now he was gone and Dean felt like something had been stolen from him. Something he had never had in the first place. There were so many things he would have liked to say and now it was too late. From the corner of his eye, he saw Jo, wrapping her arm around Adam’s waist while the boy starred into the flames.

When the fire had died down, they returned to the Roadhouse and Dean immediately poured himself another drink but when he was just about down it, he felt Cas’ hand on his wrist, holding him back. Dean looked up, meeting blue eyes staring at him relentlessly. Dean held his gaze; it was a constant game they played, exchanging words without ever speaking them and as usual, Cas won. After giving Cas his best bitchface, he pushed the glass away from him and went upstairs to the guest room.

_When did this go so wrong?_ He asked himself. Only a few weeks ago, he had had Sam by his side and although dad had been missing, he at least he had been sure that he’d been alive somewhere. Now, Sam was gone and dad was dead.

_How did this happen?_

He didn’t know and it was too much to think about.

When Cas came into the room a few minutes later, Dean pretended to be asleep. He didn’t want to talk, couldn’t talk. Not about this. Not now. Knowing Cas, he could probably see right through his plan but instead of saying anything, he simply climbed under the covers and snuggled up to Dean and Dean was grateful for that, at least there was one thing he hadn’t lost yet.

* * *

 

They sat in the SUV, Cas behind the wheel and Dean in the passenger seat, they had tried to reach Sam once again that morning and when he hadn’t answered they had moved out to find him, except, Dean wasn’t sure where to start. He had thought that he knew his brother, knew his habits and all his faults but now that he actually needed it, his mind was blank.

He remembered the feeling he had gotten more and more often during the past months, the nagging fear...He hadn’t been sure what it was until now. The fear of losing Sam. Now it was too late, he had already lost him, had lost him the minute, the Demon had gone after Jess. He saw now that Sam was too much like John, ridden by anger, revenge. He, Dean, had spent so much time stepping into his father’s footsteps, he had never stopped to notice who Sam had become without even trying.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Cas asked suddenly from the driver’s seat.

“Not really,” Dean grumbled, his eyes still fixed on the scenery outside, “Let’s just find Sam.”

“Do you have any idea where he might be?”

“Looking for the Demon. We find that, we got Sam. I already told Ash to keep his eyes and ears open for any signs.”

Cas nodded and they fell silent once again. Aimlessly driving from city to city, Cas finally stopped at a motel somewhere in Colorado but he didn’t get out of the car.

“I’m sorry, you know,” Cas muttered.

Dean finally turned his head to look at the other man. “What for?” he asked.

“Risking my life, like I did. You had every right to be angry with me and it was stupidly reckless to go in there without backup, especially since it was me that brought the Demon to you in the first place. All this is my fault.” Cas had his eyes cast down, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

“No, Cas.” Dean shook his head firmly. “None of this is your fault. You were trying to do the right thing, you _did_ the right thing. Hell, I would have done it too and there is no way in hell you could have known that dad was possessed.”

“I checked. When I found him. I splashed some Holy Water on him but he didn’t react, so I thought…” Cas trailed off and it was painful for Dean to see him like this.

“It’s not your fault,” Dean repeated, “And I’m sorry, too.”

“For what?” Cas asked confused, finally looking up.

“For dying, I guess.” Dean gave a crooked smile and when he saw Cas rolling his eyes he was a bit proud of himself.

“It’s not funny, Dean.”

“It’s a little funny.”

They stayed like that for a long time, their hands entwined between them, silent, silent before they got out of the car and entered the motel to get a room for the night.

* * *

 

_Dean stood in a dark place. It was neither hot nor cold but he was shivering, his hands trembling. He looked down, looked at the knife in his hand, bloodstained. He heard a whimper nearby, a girl, strapped to a bank, deep, red cuts running through her skin, blood spilling out of her mouth and he – he smiled. Dean smiled at the girl, a vicious, predatory smile, while he lowered the blade once more, slashing into the flesh, revelling in the girl’s screams. Someone was laughing and Dean realized that it was him._

_“My good boy,” a low voice said from behind his back. Dean didn’t turn around. He knew who it was, “My good, good student. I am proud of you.”_

 

With a gasp, Dean woke up. Cold sweat was running down his face and he was shaking uncontrollably.

“Dean?” Cas’ sleepy voice vibrated against his chest and with a start, Dean pushed him off and rushed to the bathroom. “Dean, what’s wrong?” He could hardly understand Cas over the retching sounds he was making right then but it didn’t matter. He couldn’t tell Cas what he had seen.

“I’m okay.” Dean forced out, his forehead pressed against the cold tiles.

“Bullshit.”

“Cas –”

“Dean.”

“It’s nothing. Just a nightmare.”

Cas tilted his head and kept looking at Dean as if he was trying to look inside his head.

“You can talk to me,” he said eventually.

“I know.” And he did. He knew, but this wasn’t something you just brought up over dinner; actually, this wasn’t something you brought up ever. It was sick and twisted and wrong. Dean remembered every detail of the dream, remembered the feeling of power, the control he had had. He could still smell the blood, still hear the screams. He remembered the voice.

_I am proud of you._

Only now, he remembered the other dream too. The one he had had while he had been dead. The warehouse. The sigils. Bobby. The strange creature that somehow seemed familiar. Dean shook his head and stepped into the shower, trying to wash off the blood on his hands that wasn’t even there.

What the hell was going on?


	11. Broken Mirrors

_New blood joins this earth,_  
_And quickly he's subdued._  
 _Through constant pained disgrace_  
 _The young boy learns their rules._  
  
_With time the child draws in._  
 _This whipping boy done wrong._  
 _Deprived of all his thoughts_  
 _The young man struggles on and on he's known_  
 _A vow unto his own,_  
 _That never from this day_  
 _His will they'll take away._  
  
_What I've felt,_  
 _What I've known_  
 _Never shined through in what I've shown._  
 _Never be._  
 _Never see._  
 _Won't see what might have been._  
  
_What I've felt,_  
 _What I've known_  
 _Never shined through in what I've shown._  
 _Never free._  
 _Never me._  
 _So I dub thee unforgiven._

  
  
Of all the things he’d done, failing Sam was undoubtfully the worst.

_Take your brother outside as fast as you can!_

He remembered that night as if it had only been yesterday. The night his childhood had ended. The night he had become responsible for Sam; he’d had one job, Just one. Keep Sam safe. And he didn’t even seem to be able to do that.

Speaking of unforgivable things.

  
  
_You labelled me,_  
 _I'll label you._  
 _So I dub thee unforgiven._  
  
_Never free._  
 _Never me._  
 _So I dub thee unforgiven._

It wasn’t just Dean, though.

It had taken him a long time and a boyfriend to realize it, but John was as much to blame as he was; training him to be the perfect soldier, an obedient pet, ready to follow orders. But Dean was not a soldier. He was a worrier. Fighting for what he believed in and right now he believed in Sam.

They were headed for California, at least for now, since there were no Demonic omens whatsoever and Dean had a feeling that Sam might have wanted to go back to where his life had fallen apart. Go back to Jess. It was the only thing he could think of and he prayed to God, or whatever might be out there, that he was right. That that was where he could find Sam.

“There is something the Demon said,” Dean remembered, suddenly, “He said that something was hiding Sam from its sight, and Sam…remember how he said that his visions or whatever it is started as soon as they moved into the new house?”

“Yes. You think there is a connection?” Cas asked.

“I don’t think it’s a coincidence.” C _oincidences don’t exist._

“What could do that?”

“Well, I don’t know. You’re the smart one, remember?”

Cas smiled faintly, his eyes were staring in the distance, narrowed ever so slightly. He was thinking.

“Dean,” he said eventually.

“Yes, Cas?”

“There is something I haven’t told you.”

“What’s that?”

“The first time we met…that wasn’t by chance.”

Dean frowned. “What’re ya talking about, man?”

“I’m not sure.” Cas sounded confused, which added only to Dean’s puzzlement.

“Okay, you’re speaking in riddles.”

“My apologies.” Cas seemed like he had nothing to add to that, so Dean let it go.

It was raining when they arrived at the cemetery where Jess was buried. Dean and Cas got out of the car, walking through the lines of headstones towards Jess’ grave; there was no one around but Dean immediately saw the fresh flowers on the ground.

“He was here, alright,” Dean muttered, examining the flowers, he felt shame rising inside of him.

_Where are you, Sammy?_

* * *

 

_“I told ya, he don’t wanna be found. The kid’s smart and he had a helluva teacher.”_

“I know that Bobby.” Dean was growing more and more frustrated. “I guess I just hoped that…nevermind. I have no idea what to do next,” he admitted. Cas was driving, while Dean sat defeated in the passenger’s seat.

_“Come home, son. I left a dozen messages for Sam, even said that you’re alive an’ kicking although that really isn’t something you say over a voice mail.”_

“Yeah…maybe you’re right.”

Dean put away his phone and closed his eyes, trying to think of something, anything, that might help them find Sam. There was nothing. Dean had thought that he knew his brother; knew him like his own mind and maybe that had been true, once, but too much had happened since then and as far as Dean knew, Sam was a stranger and _that_ , above all, hurt the most.

“Do you want to talk now?” Cas asked casually, eyes fixed on the road, but Dean knew that his full attention was on the Hunter next to him. For a while, Dean didn’t answer but that was okay; Cas would wait.

“About what?” Dean grumbled eventually.

“Anything.”

Silence again, as they drove on out of California, past a shabby hotel. Dean rubbed the back of his neck, “I dunno, man, it’s just…I’m worried, y’know? “

“About Sam,” Cas concluded and Dean nodded, “Yeah.”

“What else?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re lying.”

Of course, Cas noticed. He always did. It was both creepy and comforting how well they knew each other. Usually, Cas ignored Dean’s lies, his reluctance to talk, his deflections, but Dean knew that this time, he would have to talk sooner or later because when Cas had set his mind to something, he didn’t give up until he had achieved his goal.

_Might as well get it over with,_ Dean thought.

“When I was…when I was dead or…whatever…I was dreaming, I think. It was weird, like, really weird. I was there and Bobby but…it was different, like I was me but I wasn’t. We were in a barn or something and there were all kinds of symbols all over the walls and I knew that Bobby had drawn them and we were summoning something and it came and…I know that I was scared of whatever it was because it was really powerful. The kind of power you don’t mess with. I tried to kill it but it just wouldn’t die.” Dean shivered lightly, remembering the confusion, the dread but also the admiration of the beauty he had seen. There was a face, he thought he remembered, blurry and unclear. “Whatever it was…it saved me.”

“Saved you? From what?”

“No idea. It said…it said, ‘I’m the one who gribbed you tight and raised you from perdition.’”

“Huh.” Dean glanced at Cas and saw that he had tilted his head ever so slightly, the way he always did when he didn’t understand something or when he was thinking. It was adorable. “What about your nightmare?”

“Cas –”

“No Dean, you need to talk about these things. You can’t just keep that in.”

Cas was right, or course. Not talking just fucked him up even more than he already was.

“It was just nightmare,” Dean muttered.

“Maybe. I’d like you to tell me about it anyway.”

So he did. He told Cas about the darkness and the blood and the little girl. He told Cas about the feeling of power and control. About the voice in his ear.

“What is it?” Dean asked when Cas didn’t say anything for a long time.

“I feel like I should know something. It’s right there but I can’t see it,” Cas said, “Dean, when we first met…I didn’t just go to Ohio for the Witches. There was something important, something I had to find. I couldn’t tell you how I knew that, I just did.”

“The way you always knew that Monsters are real?” Dean remembered.

“Yes.” Cas nodded. “And those dreams you had. I feel like I heard about them before. Like I was there too.”

“You a psychic now too?” Dean joked weakly.

“I think that unlikely.”

They fell into a comfortable silence and Dean realized that talking about those weird dreams had, in fact, helped. He felt better now. Lighter.

Dean watched the landscape flying by and turned up the radio.

_Welcome to the party_  
_Come on in and disappear_  
 _You're feeling like a stranger_  
 _But all your friends are here_  
 _Little lines and cracks_  
 _Around your eyes and mouth_  
 _Something's trying to get in_  
 _Something's trying to get out_  
  
_It's ok, to be a little broken_  
 _Everybody's broken, in this life_  
 _It's ok, to feel a little broken_  
 _Everybody's broken, you’re alright_  
 _It's just life_

* * *

 

They could see smoke from the distance. White, thick smoke. The road was empty so Cas drove faster, trying to get them closer to the Roadhouse except…the Roadhouse was gone. All that was left were black ruins and the smell of burned flesh.

“What the hell?” Dean breathed out and got of the car quickly. He took in the scene before his eyes; black, charred pieces of wood and molten metal was all that had remained of the bar. He exchanged a look with Cas, checking if he was okay, if he could deal with this because this had been the closest Cas had ever gotten to a home after his parents had died and Dean knew exactly what it felt like to lose that. The blankness of the other man’s face, the hard look in his eyes, nearly broke Dean’s heart. 

“Cas! Dean!”

Dean swiveled around and saw Jo walking towards them, tears streaming down her face. Behind her, Dean could see Bobby, Ellen and Adam.

“What happened?” Dean asked Bobby while Cas wrapped his arms around the girl.

“Demons,” Bobby huffed, “We just came back, found the place like this.”

“Son of a bitch.”

“What about Ash?” Cas asked.

“MIA.”

Dean stared at the remains of the Roadhouse, one of the few places he himself had ever felt at home, his eyes fell on Bobby and Ellen and Jo, his family, and on Adam who seemed helplessly overwhelmed by everything that was happening but who didn’t want to show it. He reminded Dean of himself.

“You okay, kiddo?” he asked his half-brother.

Adam looked back at Dean with wide eyes and nodded. “Yeah.”

“Let’s get to my place, try an’ make some sense of this,” Bobby suggested and since no one seemed to have a better idea they all got into the cars and drove to South Dakota.  _  
_ It was a quiet journey. There was not much to say except for the things they already knew, so Dean was content with just being there with Cas, one hand comfortably laid on the other man’s thigh, his thumb rubbing circles over the fabric of the trousers.

“I’m okay, Dean,” Cas finally muttered.

“You’re lying,” Dean responded and Cas actually smiled weakly. He wasn’t the only one who could tell when the other man was being dishonest, that went both ways and Dean wasn’t going to ignore it.

“Yes I am.”

“Wanna talk?”

“Not really.” Cas shrugged. “I don’t even know why I’m so upset, I mean…Ellen’s still alive. And Jo. It’s just the Roadhouse…it was like home to me,” he admitted.

“I know. For me too.”

It was getting dark when they arrived at Bobby’s salvage yard and they all sat down in the kitchen, a beer in one hand and a sandwich in the other. Dean caught a glimpse of the joined hands of Jo and Adam, before turning to Ellen who still hadn’t said one word.

“What I don’t understand is, why. Why would Demons burn down the Roadhouse?” he asked, waiting for Ellen to answer.

The older woman shrugged, “Hunter’s bar,” she mumbled.

“It was pretty crowded but I don’t think that’s it,” Bobby spoke up.

“Then what do you think?” Cas inquired.

“Ash. He found somethin’, pretty big by the sound of it. Called me, said we should come back and to get you guys as well.”

“You have any idea what he had?” Dean asked curiously.

“No. By the time we got there the place was a wreck.”

“Fuck. What could he have possibly known?”

“Beats me.”

Bobby’s words were met with silence, everyone just sipping their beer and exchanging looks.

“Well, that’s just great,” Dean said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

_Sammy’s missing, Ash’s probably dead, and the Demons are up to some big gig. Awesome._

The Hunter ran his hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck, trying to come up with something, anything, that might help them. There was nothing.

“We’ll figure it out. Tomorrow. Get some rest, all of ya,” Bobby ordered and Dean wasn’t complaining. He felt exhausted, like hadn’t slept in days; which was sort of true. Sleeping in the car wasn’t exactly recreative.

* * *

 

When Dean woke up the next morning, the sun stood already high in the sky and Cas was still sleeping. With a smile, Dean watched his boyfriend before carefully getting out of the bed and walking downstairs to the kitchen. When he entered the room, he saw Adam sitting at the table with a cup of coffee clasped in his hands.

“Mornin’ Adam,” Dean grumbled.

“Good morning, Dean,” Adam greeted him back and Dean noticed how he sat up a little bit straighter, his shoulders tense.

“Relax,” Dean chuckled and sat down at the table with Adam, “How’re you doing?” he asked.

Adam shrugged, “Okay, I guess. I don’t understand most of the things that’re going on but that’s okay, Jo’s explained it to me bit.”

“You an’ Jo, huh?” Dean teased and he could see the younger boy blushing slightly, “Don’t worry, I don’t need to give you the whole ‘you break her heart, I’ll break your face’-speech, ‘cause she can do that by herself just fine.”

“I noticed,” Adam muttered and relaxed a little bit, “Listen, Dean, I swear I had no idea. About you and Sam. John never talked about himself or his life. Hell, I thought he was a mechanic until like a week ago.”

“It’s alright,” Dean said, “Dad did that, lying. I mean it’s part of the job description, being a Hunter, but he…” Dean shook his head, trying to find the right words, “He was really good at it.”

“Could you teach me? To be a Hunter?” Adam asked after a while and now it was Dean that tensed up.

“No,” he answered decisively.

“Why not?” Adam challenged.

“Because…Adam you have no idea what it’s like. The Life, it’s…it ain’t pretty or heroic or any such shit. It’s mostly just death and pain. You already lost your mum and now your dad. Don’t lose yourself too.”

“Why do you do it then? If it’s so awful?” Adam asked and Dean actually had to take a moment to think about that. Why _did_ he still do it?

“I was raised into it, I guess,” he began slowly, “Being a Hunter…it’s all I know. I wouldn’t know what else to do; what else to be, but you…Adam, you’ve got your whole life before you. Don’t throw that away.”

“But I don’t,” Adam almost whispered, “I used to have a life with my mum and then she died and I was looking for John but I couldn’t find him and the next thing I know is, I’m possessed by some Demon, kidnapping my own father, threatening to kill him and now he’s dead too, I just…I have no idea what to do.”

Dean shivered lightly. He felt like shit, because Adam had just lost his family and now he was trying to figure out how to deal with that. Because Adam was a Winchester and he, Dean, and Sam where all he had left of a family. Because Dean knew what Adam felt and he still tried to push him away.

“I get it,” Adam continued, “You don’t know me and you don’t trust me and you’ve got your own baggage at the moment with your brother but…I don’t know. Whatever. Forget I said anything.” Adam stood up, shuffling towards the sink and Dean’s head was spinning, his mind racing.

“Hang on, Adam,” he said quickly, “Hang on.” He had to think. Adam was his brother too, which meant Dean was responsible for him, which meant he couldn’t just let him leave with nothing to protect himself and if he stayed then maybe…”I guess teaching you how to defend yourself won’t hurt anyone,” he found himself saying before he could change his mind and Adam started grinning widely, causing Dean to chuckle once again. He kinda liked the kid.

It took another hour for Cas to finally get out of bed and when he finally did, he was extra grumpy, his hair a complete mess and Dean didn’t dare speak to him before he had at least three coffees in his system.

It was going to be a long day.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song lyrics: "The Unforgiven" by Metallica and "Everybody's Broken" by Bon Jovi


	12. Lost Souls Have Eyes Like Shadows

It had been three months since Dean had come back from the dead. Three months since John had died. They still had nothing, and Dean was getting more and more frustrated. It was like Sam had vanished from the face of the earth and there was no Demon to be found anywhere, which made Dean even more suspicious.

However, there was one thing, just one, that seemed actually and honest to god good in all this shit; Dean kept his promise of teaching Adam a few things and the more time he spent with the boy, the more he came to like him. The youngest Winchester was clever and tough and sometimes it felt like looking at a younger version of himself. Cas, too, had taken a liking to the boy and currently taught him some Latin. Dean watched the two from afar, smiling faintly. The motion felt strange and unfamiliar. There wasn’t much to smile about lately.

“You gonna stand there all day, ogling your boyfriend or you gonna help me with these?” Bobby’s rough voice ripped him out of his thoughts and Dean turned back to look at the older man. They were going through the newspapers yet again, looking for Demon activity.

“Sorry,” Dean muttered and he could hear a low ’Idjit’, coming from Bobby but that was it. They found nothing. Like always.

“What about Missouri?”

Dean spun around, not having noticed Cas who now stood in the doorway, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“What about her? “ Dean asked in confusion.

“Couldn’t she help us? She’s a Psychic after all; maybe she knows a Spell of some sort,” Cas suggested.

“Actually, that ain’t such a stupid idea,” Bobby cut in and Dean nodded in agreement; why hadn’t he thought of that?

“Who’s Missouri?” Adam asked curiously, stepping next to Cas.

“A Psychic in Lawrence, Kansas. Friend of dad, too. You can come if you want,” Dean said just before questioning himself for suggesting it because, what the hell? But Adam was smiling like he had just revealed that Santa Claus was real and Dean really didn’t have the heart to take back his words and anyway, it was just a trip to Kansas.

_What could possibly go wrong?_

* * *

 

 Halfway between Sioux Falls and Lawrence, they made a stop in a little town in Iowa and Dean pulled out his phone. There was no signal. They sat down in a diner for some burgers and, in Dean’s case, pie.

“Look at that,” he exclaimed, “Sweet cherry pie. Sorry Cas, I think I found love somewhere else.”

Cas chuckled but said nothing, instead he took a big bite from his burger and moaned obscenely. It was actually quite relaxing and for a second, Dean even forgot what they were going to Kansas for.

“So,” Adam started after a while, “You grew up in Kansas, right?”

“Uh, yeah.” Dean nodded. He felt a bit uncomfortable talking about this kind of stuff but he guessed that Adam had a right to know. “Mum, dad, Sammy ‘n’ me.”

“What happened?”

“Adam, I don’t think –”

“It’s okay Cas,” Dean interrupted his boyfriend and then turned back to the kid, “Mum died when I was four. A Demon came into our house. It killed her.”

_There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?_ Dean thought.

He didn’t have to tell Adam about the fire, about how he had carried Sam out of the house. About the broken shell of a man that John had become afterwards.

“Is that when you started Hunting?”

“Dad did. He was obsessed with finding it. Taught us everything he knew.”

“What was he like? As a father?” Adam sounded almost shy and Dean took pity on him.

“Adam,” he started out carefully, “What you have to understand is that John…he wasn’t a good father. Teacher? Yeah. Best damn Hunter there is, but as a dad he…he wasn’t…Maybe he was different with you, maybe he wanted to make it better, but me ‘n’ Sam?” He shook his head, his eyes staring blindly into the distance. “He did the best he could to keep us save.” It suddenly hit him, that he had no idea what to say about John. He didn’t even know how he felt about him anymore.

They finished their meals in silence and when they got back into the car, Dean was still thinking about his father.

“Slow down,” Cas suddenly said and pointed up ahead the road. Two cars and about ten men with guns were blocking the way, all of them looking stern and kind of creepy.

“What’s going on?” Adam asked from the back seat but neither Cas nor Dean bothered to answer, instead, Dean rolled down the window, “Yo, hey!” he called out and one of the men came closer, leaning down over the frame.

“Road’s closed,” he announced.

“Yeah, we can see that. What’s up?” he asked casually. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like this at all.

“Quarantine,” the man answered.

“For what?” Cas asked and Dean could see how tense the other man was, his hand placed on his gun.

“Can’t tell. County Sheriff called, said that somethin’s going on.”

Dean flashed a quick glance to Cas who nodded almost unnotably. The phones were dead, they both knew that.

“Why don’t you three get out of the car?” the man continued and somewhere in Dean’s head his alarm bells went.

He laughed nervously, “Sorry, pal, can’t do that.”

“I’d appreciate it if you did.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you would.”

Without giving the other man any time to react, Dean went into reverse and accelerated. He saw the men raising their guns, aiming at the car, “Down!” he yelled quickly and turned the car around. Shots went off and he was pretty sure that he ran something or someone over but he didn’t care. All that mattered was that they got away from those maniacs as soon as possible.

“What the hell?” Dean exclaimed as soon as they had put some distance between them and the road blockade. No one answered. It had been a rhetorical question anyway.

When they were back in town, the first thing Dean noticed was how empty it was. How quiet. Something was definitely off. They drove past cars standing in the middle of the street, some engines still running; all of them empty. Smashed windows in stores and cafes, bloodstains on the pavement and –

“Dean!” Adam urged him but Dean had already seen it. Two men, dragging a woman out of a house by her hair, one of them holding a bloody knife.

“Don’t move,” he ordered Adam after he had stopped the car. Cas was the first to get out, his gun already drawn.

“Let her go!” he called out and the two men stopped short to look up before and their mouths curled into malicious smiles. Before Dean could react properly, the taller man grabbed the woman tightly and backed away, while the second one ran towards them with the knife; he pulled the trigger. The men dropped dead as his and Cas’ shots  both hit him in the chest but Dean’s attention was already on the other man. He watched in confusion and horror, as he drew a smaller knife and cut her arm, just deep enough to draw blood, the woman whimpered and closed her eyes.

“I won’t say it again. Let her go,” Cas demanded calmly.

“Oh, I will.” The man smiled and cut the palm of his hand before pressing it against the woman’s wound. _Bang!_ Dean winced slightly, he saw blood dripping from the man’s head and his body going slack before dropping to the ground. A few feet ahead, gun still drawn, stood Sam, his eyes wide and moth slightly open.

“Dean?!”

Dean couldn’t help it, he laughed. He laughed and cried at the same time because Sam was _right there_ and he was _alive._ Fortunately for him, Cas still had a functioning brain and rushed towards the woman to support her while Dean and Sam stared at each other in disbelief.

“How?”

“Well, if you had answered your fucking phone, you’d know,” Dean shot back with a grin.

“I – er – I ditched my phone,” Sam admitted sheepishly.

“What? Why?”

Sam shrugged. “Didn’t wanna be found,” he answered.

“Well, that was stupid,” Dean told his little brother, “Everyone’s been looking for you for months.”

“I know, I just…I –”

“Sammy, shut up.” Dean strode forward, now standing right in front of his brother. “Come here.” He pulled him into a tight hug and for a second, Sam tensed up before relaxing into the touch and closing his ridiculously long arms around the smaller man.

“I can’t believe you’re alive,” Sam almost sobbed and Dean patted his back before pulling back carefully. There was so much they had to talk about.

“Dean?” Adam’s faint voice reminded him of where they were and what was happening and he quickly turned around.

“Didn’t I tell you to stay in the car?”

“Well, yes, because there were two raging psychopaths on the loose, who are dead now so I decided it’d be safe to come out.” Adam flashed him a self-satisfied smirk that reminded him very much of himself.

“Don’t get smart with me boy.” Dean pointed a finger at his half-brother and winced at his own tone. Just when had he started to sound like dad? Luckily, Adam just laughed and stepped forward.

“Hey, Sam. I’m Adam,” he introduced himself.

“Er – hello.” Sam sounded unsure and glanced at Dean who mouthed a quick ‘later’. He couldn’t deal with this right now.

“It’s really heart-warming to see you all like this, but we still have a problem here,” Cas suddenly said and when Dean turned around he saw the woman hanging onto him like a lifeline.

“Cas’s right. We need to get somewhere safe; there’s a clinic just down the road,” Sam explained and let them to a small building.

“Sam? Is that you?” a female voice called and seconds later, a young woman with long black hair stood in the corridor, looking at them suspiciously.

“It’s okay, Ruby,” Sam reassures her and they all walk inside while the girl named Ruby locks the door behind them.

There’s people inside. Dean could see a man in his mid-thirties sitting on the floor, next to him was an old woman, holding the hand of a little girl. Another women was praying in the corner. But what was far more interesting was that Sam seemed to know these people.

“Andrea?” The praying women had stopped and was now looking at the women they brought in.

“You know her?” Sam asked and she nodded.

“Andrea Holley, my brother’s girlfriend.”

“What happened?” a man wearing a white coat approached them and helped Andrea down on the examination table.

“She was attacked,” Sam answered before anybody else could. The doctor nodded and started examining the wound on Andrea’s arm, while Andrea began talking, “Gil and Frank, they…they came into the shop and they grabbed me and pulled me outside and…oh god what is happening?!”

“Shhh, calm down, Andrea. It’s going to be okay,” the doctor told her. “What about you?” he asked.

“We’re fine,” Dean answered.

“Good,” the doctor said before throwing a question look at Sam who nodded. “Andrea, I need you to come with me.”

“Why?” Andrea asked.

“Just a few routine tests.” But there was something about his tone that Dean didn’t like. He was too tense, his smile a little too wide, but when he opened his mouth to speak up, Sam stopped him.

“Where is he taking her?” he whispered.

“Another room. For now.”

“What does that mean? What’s going on?”

But instead of answering, Sam just nodded towards the corridor and Dean followed his brother outside.

“Something’s going on here, Dean. Something bad. People are going crazy, Phil, the doctor, said it’s some kind of virus. He found traces of sulfur in the blood samples,” Sam explained.

“Sulfur?”

“Yes.” He nodded. “There was something else. I found the word Croatoan carved into a tree.”

“What?” Dean was even more confused now, _what the hell is Croatoan?_

“Seriously, Dean? Don’t you read?” Sam asked incredulous.

“I read,” Dean crossed his arms defensively.

“Yeah, porn magazines.” Sam snored. “Anyway, there’s this story about the first English colony in 1587. Roanoke Colony, nowadays known as the Lost Colony. No one knows what happened, just that everyone vanished overnight and the only thing left was a word. Croatoan.”

“You think that’s what happening here? Some freaky Demon virus?” Dean asked.

“Makes sense. Dad always had a theory about it and…well…” he hesitated.

“What?”

“I had another dream,” his little brother confessed and Dean nearly groaned. He really couldn’t deal with freaky premonitions on top of this too. However, he held back and instead pressed for more information. “About what?”

“You.”

Dean froze. “What?”

“I saw you, Dean. We were here, in this building and there was this kid, a boy, he was bound to a chair, begging for his life but you just…” the end of the sentence hang in the air like a bad omen and Dean tried to wrap his head around all of this.

“Well,” he started, “I’m sure I had a good reason,” he said defensively.

“I hope so,” Sam muttered.

“That’s why you came here? ‘Cause you saw me killing some kid?” Dean inquired and Sam nodded. “I thought you were dead.” Sam’s voice was nothing more than a hoarse whisper and Dean could see the pain in his eyes.

“I was,” he answered quietly.

“But then…how -?”

“Sammy –” Dean hesitated. He wanted to tell his brother about the deal, about everything that had happened but the words kept getting stuck in his throat, choking him.

_Dad’s dead, Sammy. He sold his soul for my life and now he’s burning in Hell. Oh, and by the way, Adam’s our half-brother, he’ll be staying with us from now on._

He couldn’t say it.

“Sam, I –” but he was interrupted when a high-pitched scream came from the back room. Sam and Dean rushed back and saw the doctor lying on the floor, unconscious while Andrea was straddling the old woman, hands wrapped around her throat. He reached for his gun but before he could even touch it, he heard a shot and saw Cas standing in the middle of the room, his gun still pointed at Andrea’s motionless body while blood seeped out from under her.

_What the fuck?_ He thought but didn’t say it, after all, Sam had said that people were going crazy.

“Everyone okay?” he asked instead.

“Everyone okay?” the big, bulky man who had been sitting on the floor repeated while standing up. “There’s a body lying on the floor and you’re asking us if we’re _okay_?”

“Easy, man. He didn’t have a choice,” Dean replied and helped the old woman up to her feet. “You’re bleeding.”

“Of course, she’s bleeding. Andrea attacked her, now she’s one of them, you gonna kill her too?”

“No one’s killing anyone,” Dean said firmly and to prove his point he put his gun away.

“Well maybe you should,” the man spat.

“Listen to me, smartass,” Dean stepped forward, glaring at the man, “I don’t give a shit what you think, no one is dying without a good reason, you got that? We’re stuck here for now, so we’re all gonna stay calm.” And although the man was considerably taller than Dean, he seemed to shrink under Dean’s eyes, slowly backing away against the wall. “Good.” With a sharp nod, Dean turned away and saw that Phil had woken up. Fortunately, he had no injuries.

 Sam and Dean quickly filled Cas in on what was happening and Dean wasn’t surprised that Cas knew all about the Roanoke Colony; that man was a walking encyclopedia.

“What do we do now?” he asked eventually.

“We gotta find a cure or this town’ll be the next Lost Colony,” Dean answered.

“Yeah but, how do we do that?”

“We gotta get out of here. Out of town. Contact Bobby and Ellen.” It was the only thing he could think of.

“But how?” Sam questioned, “The road is blocked and all the phones are dead.”

“You could always blow your way out of here.” The three Hunters swiveled around and saw Adam, leaning against the doorway.

“Has anyone ever told you that eavesdropping is rude,” Dean remarked and Adam smirked.

“A few times,” he answered before stepping forward, “Come on guys, we’re in a clinic. There’s all kinds of chemicals here to build a bomb.”

“He’s right,” Sam said, looking at Adam in astonishment, “That way we can at least make it to the next town.”

They all nodded but before they could spring to action someone pounded against the door.

“Hello? Let me in! Let me in, please!”

For a moment, everyone stood frozen in their place, staring at the door, when suddenly the woman that had been praying rushed forward, “Oh my god, that’s Chris. That’s my brother,” she cried and opened the door. A young man, almost a kid, came in and fell into her arms. Dean noticed the way Sam tensed up when he saw him and he glanced at his brother.

“Is that him?” he muttered, “The one I –”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded.

Chris was tall and skinny, his hair was tousled and his clothes ripped and dirty

“What happened?” the girl asker her brother.

“I was in the woods, running from those psychopaths. Kate, what’s happening?”

But before Kate could answer, Ruby had already stepped forward, “Are you hurt? Did they bleed on you?” she urged.

“No…” Chris looked at her in confusion and Dean couldn’t blame the kid.

“You sure?” he chipped in, stepping forward as well to get a good look at the boy, “Doc.”

Phil stepped forward and led Chris into the lab while Dean ran his hand over his face, “I’m not gonna do it,” he decided.

“Dean, if he really is infected you have to,” Sam muttered. Dean stopped short and turned around, staring at his brother.

“What?” he asked incredulously, not quite believing what he was hearing.

Sam shrugged. “I’m just saying.”

“Well why don’t _you_ do it, if you’re so sure?” he snapped and joined Chris and the doctor in the lab, leaving Sam standing in the corridor with Ruby.

“There’s a cut on his back,” Phil reported after examining Chris.

“I must have cut myself while running through the woods.” There was desperation in Chris’ voice. “Please, I swear, whatever you think I have…I’m fine.”

Dean nodded slowly, not quite convinced. What if he was infected? What if Sam was right and he would kill this kid?

“We can’t take any risks,” big and bulky suddenly said and Dean would have very much liked to punch him. He didn’t.

“Shut your mouth,” he said instead, “Chris, are you sure they didn’t get you?”

“Yes,” Chris nodded frantically.

“Bind him up.”

“What?”

“Just until we’re sure you’re not infected,” Dean explained calmly. He hated himself for what he was doing but they had to be sure.

“No, no, please. Please, I swear. I’m begging you, don’t kill me! Don’t!”

“I’m not gonna kill you, man.” _Not yet, anyway._

It took three men to hold Chris down and bind him to a chair while Kate was standing next to them crying, screaming at them to stop.

“Doc, please tell me you can tell if he’s infected or not.”

Dean turned towards Phil who stood in the lab, looking utterly lost.

“I – I can’t –” he stammered, “I can’t tell. It takes at least three to four hours for the sulfur to show in the blood and it’ll be too late by then.”

“Great. So, all we can do is wait.” This was all getting out of hand. “Cas, Adam, Sam? Come on.”

“What are we doing?” Adam asked almost excitedly.

“Building bombs.”

* * *

 

Dean wasn’t sure how much time had passed; one maybe two hours.

They had produced a whole arsenal of explosives, ready to blow up the entire city if they had to; Dean just hoped that it didn’t have to come to that.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, his head was pounding and all he wanted at the moment was a cold beer and a bed.

“Alright.” He straightened up and looked around. They all seemed exhausted, ready to fall asleep any second. “Alright,” he repeated, “I say we split up. One half makes it to the next city, while the other half stays –” his words were interrupted by a turmoil in the lab. It was chaos, the old lady that had been strangled by Andrea was holding a scalpel, blood dripping down from a cut in her hand, down on the little girl who was crying. Dean saw big and bulky, lying on the floor, dead or unconscious, he couldn’t tell, and still bound to the chair was Chris, thrashing around, yelling and baring his teeth like a wild animal.

“Shit,” Dean cursed. Quickly he drew his weapon and fired at the old lady, while shouting over his shoulder, “Adam get into the storage room, close the door, don’t come out!”

“Dean –”

“That’s an order!”

He didn’t turn around to see if Adam was doing what he was told but he heard steps and then a door slamming shut. The old lady was dead, and Dean quickly turned around to check on Cas and Sam except it wasn’t Cas standing side by side with his brother but Ruby who was holding a bloody knife, behind them, on the floor, lay Kate. Dead.

A whimper sounded from next to Dean and when he turned to look he saw the little girl crouching on the floor, hugging her knees and crying. He saw movement from the corner of his eye, Sam stepping forward, his gun aimed at the girl and -

 “Sam –” Dean pressed his brother, “Sam what are you – ” _Bang._ A single shot echoed through the room and the little girl sacked to the floor completely, a big hole gaping in her head. “What the actual _fuck_ , Sammy?!” Dean shouted.

“She was infected, Dean,” Sam just replied without looking at him.

“So? She was a kid!”

“She was an it.” Finally, Sam turned his head and Dean wished he hadn’t. Sam’s eyes were cold, empty. Dean felt his own blood freeze in his veins as he stared at his little brother, the boy he had raised, the angry man that had walked out of them all these years ago.

 “Who are you?” he finally asked, hating the way his voice broke ever so slightly. This wasn’t Sam. It couldn’t be. “What happened to you?”

“What happened to me? Really Dean? What do you think?” Sam snapped and Dean honestly didn’t have an answer. “You _died_ , Dean.”

And that was it. It was all his fault.

“Sammy –”

“Save it,” Sam snapped and walked towards Ruby, “Come on,” he said to her, making for the door.

“Sam, wait!” Dean called out, “Where the hell are you going?” _I just got you back…_

“Away from you.”

_What?_

“Sam –” he started but, once again, Sam interrupted him, “Why are you alive, Dean?” he asked, his voice laced with anger and suspicion and something else…something Dean couldn’t place.

Dean gulped, his tongue feeling way too big for his mouth, “Dad,” he started, “Dead, he – he’s dead, Sammy. He made a deal. And he’s dead.”

“When?” Sam asked, his voice flat and devoid of any emotions.

“Three months ago?” Dean answered, “Sam, we called you a hundred times but you wouldn’t answer. We had no idea where you were and I just…I can’t…” _I can’t lose you too._

Sam stood there, his face a stony mask, his eyes hard, unyielding, as he slowly nodded his head, “Okay.”

_Okay?_ Dean wanted to ask, but in that moment Cas and Adam entered the room, “Dean?” the familiar, gravelly voice of his boyfriend greeted him.

“Cas.” Dean let out a breath of relief, momentarily forgetting about everything else as he rushed towards the other man, checking for injuries, “Where the hell where you?”

“With Adam,” Cas answered, laying a reassuring hand on Dean’s shoulder, “You should see this.” He led Dean towards the front door and – nothing…the streets were completely empty.

Quiet.

“I checked,” Cas announced, “There’s no one here. They’re all just…vanished.”

_Weird…_

“You should go, Dean,” Sam said from where he and Ruby were standing behind him, one hand extended, hodling the keys to the Impala.

“You mean we,” Dean corrected, ignoring both the keys and the look on his brother's face, a mixture of pity and sadness.

“I’m not coming with you,” Sam simply said, throwing the keys and Dean caught them out of reflex. Sam's fingers were entwined with Ruby’s who gave Dean a challenging look.

“Wh – What do you mean, you’re not coming with us? Of course you are,” Dean insisted, shaking his head vigorously.

“No.”

Such a simple word, consisting of only two letters, but it had Dean’s entire world shattering into a million pieces.

“No?”

“No.” Determined, Sam strode past him, Ruby following him close by, and all Dean could do was stare and stare and stare –

“Sam?” he bellowed, “Sam!” Dean took a step forward, or tried to anyway, but a strong hand on his arm held him back.

“Let him go, Dean,” Cas muttered.

 “No, no, you let me go!” he struggled, trying to fight his way out of Cas’ grip although he knew that it was hopeless.

“Dean.” Cas’ voice was soothing, calm but also decisive. “Let him go,” Cas whispered and Dean started crying.

 


	13. I Wish 'If Only', But 'If Only' Is A Wish Too Late

This was totally Booby’s fault, Dean decided. Two weeks after Sam’s mysterious goodbye, Dean still couldn’t quite deal with the fact that he had lost his brother. Again. So he may have been sulking, that was, until the old man finally snapped.

“Alright that’s it,” Bobby had grumbled, “I don’t need a bunch of idjits moping around in my house. Get out, the lot of ya. There’s a case in Indiana, so go and do somethin’ useful.”

So, they went. Dean, Cas and Adam because the newest addition of the family was adamant on becoming a Hunter and after hearing about the alternative, that Jo would take him, which wasn’t an option if you asked Dean, he had agreed.

Unfortunately, Dean had realised a bit too late that Cicero, Indiana was a place with ghosts. Not literal ones, but ghosts from his past. Or rather a ghost. A ghost, Dean didn’t want Cas to meet. Ever.

“Dean, what’s wrong?” Cas asked after thirty minutes of tension.

“Nothing,” Dean answered a bit too quickly and Cas just raised an eyebrow at him. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Dean pulled over and stopped the car at the side of the road, clutching to the steering wheel, his eyes fixed on a tree in front of the car.

“Dean?” Dean pointedly ignored his half-brother in the back seat and turned around to look at Cas.

“Lisa Braeden,” he said finally. Cas frowned, not knowing what to do with that information. “She’s an ex, sort of. A one-night stand, really, or several-nights stand, whatever. She lives in Cicero, Indiana.”

“So?” Cas aske slowly, his eyes narrowed, head tilted to the side.

“So? It might be really awkward if you met?”

“I think I can handle awkward,” Cas assured him and Dean let out a breath of relief. Distantly, he realised that Adam was chuckling and he shot him a glare that only caused the younger man to laugh harder.

“Shut your cakehole,” Dean said before starting the car again.

* * *

 

Once they had arrived in Cicero and checked into the motel, Dean went over the info Bobby had given them on the case.

“So, first of all there was James Jayden, he drowned in the garden pond. That was a month ago. Then, two weeks ago, Ferhad Baitan, a car fell on him in his own garage. A few days later, Jack Serendel, tripped and fell down the stairs, broke his neck, and finally, yesterday, Greg McQueen, who fell through the roof of his house. All of those were in the same neighbourhood and…Ferhad Baitan? He used to be a Hunter.”

“Used to be?” Cas asked from where he lay on the bed.

“He quit when he married.”

“People do that?” Adam asked curiously. He picked up unlikely fast on Hunting, which Dean found a bit unnerving.

“Sure. Would you want to keep doing this if you had an actual home to live in? Wife or husband? A kid?”

“No, I guess not,” Adam muttered but Dean wasn’t even listening anymore. He was lost in his own thoughts, trying to imagine a life without the bloodshed. Without the pain. Without death. A life without Hunting. He would have thought that it was impossible to even think of that but now that he actually tried, it was easy. Peaceful.

“Ground control to major Tom,” Adam’s voice dragged him back into reality and Adam laughed when he saw Dean’s expression, “Where’d you go off to?” he asked jokingly, “Never mind. What do we do now?”

“Now,” Dean started, “We get ourselves some grub and beer and tomorrow we start questioning the widows.”

* * *

 

Morning came and they moved out to investigate.

Cas took Adam with him to see the houses of James Jayden and Ferhad Baitan, while Dean took the other two.

_Even if I should retire someday, I will never move into something like this,_ he thought as he walked through the streets past literal white picket fences and impeccable front gardens.

The first house on the list belonged to the now widow of Jack Serendel, a forty-year-old tax accountant, living the American Dream. Dean gagged mentally as he walked up to the front door.

“Mrs. Serendel? Seth Gecko, I’m with the insurance company,” he introduced himself, and Hannah Serendel invited him inside. “I’m terribly sorry for your loss,” he offered.

“Thank you. I’m so sorry for the mess I just…” her voice quivered and she didn’t meet Dean’s eyes.

“I understand. Please, I don’t want to keep you, if you could just show me where it happened.”

“Of course,” the widow nodded and led Dean through the corridor. It was a nice house as far as Dean could see; the walls were covered with pictures of Hannah and Jack and a little girl, whom Dean assumed was their daughter. They looked happy.

“Well, this is it…he was upstairs and must have tripped.” Hannah made a vague gesture with a hand towards the stairs they were standing in front of and Dean nodded.

“I see. Where you here when it happened?”

“No.” She shook her head. “But Trixy was. Our daughter.”

The creak of a floor board had Dean turn around and suddenly he was looking down on a Creepy Little Girl. The kind you found in horror movies. The kind that made you think twice if you really wanted children. Dean was surprised how different this child looked to the one in the photos.

“Mummy, I’m hungry,” Trixy complained.

“Of course, sweetie, just give me a minute,” Mrs. Serendel said and turned back to Dean who frowned lightly. There was something on the back of her neck…”I’m sorry Mr. Gecko but if that’s all…”

“Of course. Thank you for your time and again, my condolences.”

He left the house with a strange feeling that something was very wrong.

Greg McQueen and his family lived just a few houses from the Serendels but when Dean rang the doorbell no one answered. With a shrug, he turned around again and made his way back to the motel. He still couldn’t get the girl out of his head. The way she had stared.

_Possession, maybe?_ He pondered. _Shapeshifter?_

“Hello Dean,” Cas greeted him when he entered their room. He and Adam were sitting at the table, laptop opened in front of them.

“Hey Cas. Adam.” He grabbed himself a beer before joining them but all the way he could feel Cas’ gaze on him. “What is it?” he asked and sat down.

“Well,” Cas dragged, “I met Lisa today.”

Dean nodded and took another sip of his drink before Cas’ words actually sank in and he spattered, “What?” He gaped at Cas, who chuckled lightly.

“Lisa Braeden? Your several-nights stand? She is a good a friend of Hayley Baitan. She and her son were there for a visit when we got there.”

Dean blinked. “Her son?” he asked numbly.

“Yes.” Cas nodded. “Ben. A bright boy. Huge ACDC fan. You’d like him.”

Dean had to force himself to look at Cas but there was nothing there that would indicate that Cas was anything but calm. Amused even.

“How – uhm – how old is he?” Dean inquired shyly.

“Eleven, I think.”

For the second time, Dean nearly choked on his beer. _Eleven?_

“I’m sorry, I gotta go.” Dean knocked over the half empty bottle in his hurry to get up and leave but Cas’ voice held him back, “Dean Winchetser, don’t you dare go out that door now.” But Cas didn’t sound angry, just slightly annoyed. “I don’t care for your sexual exploits before we even met and if Ben is your son, which is clearly what you are thinking right now, then all I have to say is that you would be a great father.” Steps were coming closer and Dean could feel Cas’ breath in his neck. “Look at me, Dean.” Dean turned around and found himself staring into a pair of fond, deep blue eyes, and a pair of strong hands on his shoulders. “Calm down. You can talk to Lisa if you want but _after_ we talked about the case.”

There was no place for argument in Cas’ voice, just deep understanding and love, and Dean deflated, relaxing into the touch as he nodded. Cas offered him a smile and gently led him back to the table where Adam was sitting with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“All victims were in some kind of relationship,” Cas began, “But there’s no real connection between them.” He pointed at one of the pictures and continued, “Ferhad and Hayley Baitan,” he explained, “Both used to be Hunters but then Hayley got pregnant and they moved here. Ferhad worked at the local bar as a bartender, James Jayden was a lawyer, Jack Serendel was a tax accountant and Greg McQueen owned a bookshop.”

“They all had children,” Adam threw in.

“Well yes but that’s hardly –” Dean started but then stopped himself. He thought of Trixy again. “Was there anything…off? With the kids?”

“Well, as off as you’d expect from a child that just lost a father,” Cas answered but Adam snorted, “Dude, they were creepy.”

“Creepy how?”

“Like, Damien Thorn creepy.”

“Huh.”

“What is it, Dean?” Cas asked.

“Just…I got the same vibe from the Serendel’s kid,” he answered, then added with a smirk “And you gotta admit, children aren’t exactly your thing, Cas.”

“This is true. But what does it mean? Are they possessed?”

“Maybe.”

“What about the blood?” Adam asked and both Cas and Dean turned towards the younger man.

“What blood?” the asked in unison.

“There was something on the side of Baitan’s house. Looked like blood.”

“And you only mentioning this now?” Cas was exasperated but Adam only shrugged apologetically.

“I thought you saw,” he muttered.

“Well I didn’t.” Cas looked so much like a sulking child now hat Dean had to bite the inside of his cheeks to keep himself from laughing. As badass as his boyfriend was, he was fucking adorable when he was like this.

“There’s something else,” Dean cut in eventually, “Or I think there is. I didn’t get a good look at it but there was something on Hannah’s neck. Some kind of mark…”

“Okay so we should definitely check out the vics’ families again,” Cas concluded and the other two nodded. “Now, I believe you wanted to see Lisa?”

* * *

 

Dean would be forever grateful that Cas let him do this without even hesitating.

Dean currently stood in front of a picturesque house, slightly nervous. There was a car in the driveway, so someone was home. Dean wasn’t sure if he was glad about that or not.

_Way to go, Winchester,_ he thought, _you Hunt Monsters for a living and now you’re freaking out over an ex-one-night stand and kid you don’t even know is yours._

He pressed the door bell, trying to put on his most charming smile when he heard steps approaching. A very pretty brunette opened the door, looking at him in confusion.

“Hi,” he blurted out.

For a moment, Lisa didn’t say anything, just gaped at him before realization seeped into her face.

“Dean Winchester?!” Surprise and disbelief joined her expression and Dean grinned wider. “The one and only.”

“What – what are you doing here?”

“Oh, you know…I was in the neighbourhood and I couldn’t resist,” he lied.

Lisa opened her mouth to reply something but in that moment, a tall man with glasses stepped behind her, laying an arm around her waist.

“Who is it, honey?”

“Matt, this is Dean, an old friend. Dean, Matt, my fiancé.”

Whatever reaction Lisa had expected, it probably wasn’t Dean shaking Matt’s hand with a genuine smile.

“Sorry if I’m interrupting,” Dean said, almost hoping that he was because that would only give him an excuse to leave.

Unfortunately, Matt shook his head, “No, no don’t worry about it. I was just leaving for work.”

“Right.”

“Anyway, I’ll be back for dinner. Love you.” Matt gave Lisa a quick kiss before rushing towards the car.

“Love you too,” Lisa called after him and waved.

They both watched Matt leave and when it was just Dean and Lisa, Dean felt incredibly awkward standing on Lisa’s doorstep.

“Listen, d’you think I could come in?” he asked despite himself and Lisa gave him a wary look but stepped aside. “Thanks.”

The house was perfect. Everything was clean and welcoming and Dean could practically see how the entire family spent their lazy Sundays here, happy and relaxed. Lisa led him into the kitchen where Dean sat down at the counter, while the brunette began emptying the dishwasher.

“So, how’ve you been?” he asked, trying to break the tension.

“Good.”

Plates were put back into the cupboard.

“That’s…good.” If possible, the tension had grown even bigger. “Look – ” he began, the same time Lisa seemed to break and turned around, a steak knife in her hand, “What do you want?”

“What?”

“You. What do you want?” she repeated and pointed the knife at Dean before noticing what she was doing and quickly putting it aside.

“Nothing, I – like I said I was around and –”

“Bullshit,” Lisa spat and Dean shut up, “It’s been eleven years, Dean.”

She turned back towards the dishwasher and picked up a pot.

“I know.” And he did. It wasn’t that he regretted anything, just that, for the first time, he was actually confronted with his love ‘em, leave ‘em attitude he used to have going. Lisa glared at him but Dean couldn’t wait any longer,. He had to know.

“So,” he started, “You have a kid?”

“Yes,” Lisa answered slowly, apparently confused by the question.

“Eleven, huh?” Dean pressed on and Lisa nodded – then she froze.

“You’re not…you’re not asking me if he’s yours, are you?” she asked incredulously and finally turned towards Dean again who quickly retreated, forcing out a chuckle.

“No.” Beat. “Is he?”

The pot fell to the ground making a clattering noise.

“No,” Lisa answered violently and bend over to pick up the pot.

“Are you…sure?” There was something incredibly foul in his mouth, making him want to gag.

“Does it matter? Ben has a father and it’s not you,” she snapped and banged the pot onto the kitchen counter.

“Matt.”

“Yes, Matt.”

“How long have you been together?” Dean wasn’t even sure why he asked all these questions but they seemed important, like he had to know the answers.

“Three years,” Lisa replied, “It’s not perfect but it works.”

“Good.” That he actually meant. It was good. They might not know each other very well but Lisa was a bright, pretty woman and Dean really wished for her to be happy. For the kid to be happy.

“Look, Dean, whatever it is you came here for, it ain’t happening. I love Matt.”

Dean was absolutely and utterly speechless. Did Lisa really think that’s what he was there for? To continue something that had ended 11 years ago?

“Lisa,” he finally managed to say, “I’m in a very happy, very committed relationship, you really don’t need to worry about that.”

“You are?” she sounded surprised. Almost shocked. “Wow. I’d never have taken you for the relationship guy,” she teased and sat down with Dean.

“Yeah well, I changed,” he muttered, trying to avoid her eyes.

“Tell me about her, then.”

“Actually.” Dean rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Actually, it’s a him.”

Dean watched as Lisa’s eyes grew wide, her mouth opening for…something, before she snapped it shut and apparently got herself back under control.

“Tell me about him, then.”

Dean wasn’t sure what he had expected but it hadn’t been this and he was a bit thrown off when he started talking again, “Cas. His name’s Cas and he’s…great.” He was dimly aware that he was probably looking like a whipped high school girl but he didn’t care. Not really. Cas _was_ great.

“You actually love him, don’t you? “ Lisa asked softly as if she was afraid of scaring him but there was nothing to be afraid of. The days in which Dean had had problems with his sexuality were long since gone.

“I do,” he confirmed and Lisa smiled. It was probably the first honest smile he had seen from her since he had shown up.

“Dean Winchester.” She shook her, apparently lost for words. “You truly have changed,” she said eventually, “Ben should be home in about half an hour. Coffee?”

She suddenly got up and Dean needed a second to process her words.

“You mean I should meet him?” he asked, just to make sure he had heard correctly.

“Yeah. I think you’d like him.”

* * *

 

As it turned out, it didn’t take half an hour for Ben to come home and when he did, Dean was a nervous wreck.

“Relax,” Lisa laughed, “It’ll be fine.”

“Hey mum!” Ben called out after the door clicked shut and Dean almost got a heart attack when he saw him.

_Not his father, my ass_.

Looking at Ben was like looking into a mirror. Sort of. Ben had dark hair like his mother but everything else…the Metallica shirt, the leather jacket, the overcompensating-macho-act, the fricking _eyes_ …

“Hey man. Nice shirt,” Dean greeted the boy.

“ _Dude_. Metallica rocks!”

“Ben, this is Dean, he’s an old friend.” There was a trace of an eye roll on her face but otherwise she just seemed happy to have her son home. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving.” Ben cast his bag pack into a corner and sat down next to Dean while Lisa started making sandwiches.

“You coming from school?” he asked. He was a bit calmer now, after all he was good with kids. Always had been. Why would Ben be different?

“Yeah.” Ben groaned slightly. “So, lame.”

“It’s not always bad.”

“Well no, there this chick, Marya, and she’s like super cute and really clever and I’m so going to ask her out to the movies,” Ben reported excitedly and Dean couldn’t help but grin. He really did like the kid.

“Now _that_ sounds like something a real gentleman would do,” Lisa muttered fondly and set down a plate on the table with sandwiches; the look she gave Dean, made it clear that the words were mostly directed at him.

“What else do you like Ben?” Dean asked, completely ignoring Lisa now.

“Loads of stuff,” the boy answered and took a big bite, before listing a million things he liked. “- oh and there’s this really sweet ride just up the road. A ’67 Chevy Impala!”

“Oh, uhm, that’s mine actually,” Dean said, trying to keep a straight face. This was awesome.

“No. Fudgin’. Way!” Ben was nearly choking on his sandwich now and Lisa shot him a disapproving look.

“What d’ya say Ben…think your mum’ll let me take you on a ride later?”

“Oh mum, please let me. Please, please, please, please, please!” Ben begged and Dean thought he might actually start crying now if Lisa said no and Ben’s mum seemed to be thinking the exact same thing.

“Alright,” she sighed, “But only _after_ , you did your homework.”

And with those words, Ben jumped to his feet and ran towards his room to do just that.

Lisa shook her head, chuckling lightly, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so enthusiastic about school,” she commented.

“It’s all in the motivation.” Dean winked at her. “Anyway, I gotta call Cas.”

“Oh, that reminds me, why don’t you two come over for dinner tonight?” Lisa asked.

“Are you sure about that?” Dean asked sceptical.

“Absolutely.”

* * *

 

_How is this my life?_

Dean felt like the punchline of a bad joke, sitting at a dinner table, in the middle of a Hunt, next to his boyfriend, and his half-brother, while his ex-one-night stand was serving lasagne, her son was talking about girls and cars, and her soon to be husband was asking awkward questions. 

“So, Dean, how’d you and Lisa meet anyway? She never mentioned you.” Matt sipped sat his beer, looking from his fiancé to Dean and back again.

“She wouldn’t,” Dean answered quickly, “We lost touch over ten years ago.”

“Huh.”

“Anyway, you’re a professor?” he asked, trying to change the subject.

“Yes. Theology.”

“That’s interesting. Are you a religious man?” Cas cut in and Matt laughed.

“No. And you don’t have to be religious to study religion, in fact, I believe it’s much easier when you’ve got a more neutral view on things.”

“That makes sense. My parents were very religious, kind of scared me off.”

“That happens. What about you? What do you do?”

“Insurance agency.”

“Really?”

“Yes, in fact, that’s why we’re in town. We were looking into the accidents that happened around here,” Cas explained, his voice becoming business like in a way it always did when they talked to witnesses.

“It’s terrible,” Lisa muttered and shook her head, “Hayley is my friend, you know, and I didn’t know Ferhad very well but he was nice.”

“One of my colleges, Sarah McQueen, she lost her husband too. They had a child, little boy. It’s just the two of them now,” Matt said.

“Terrible indeed,” Cas commented, “How are they holding up?”

“Sarah’s dealing...but Zack…” Greg shook his head, sadness clouding his eyes, “He was such a sweet kid, always laughing, but now…he hardly says a word.”

“It’s never easy for a child to lose a parent,” Dean reminded them but his thoughts were somewhere else completely. _It’s the kids. It has to be._ “Anyway, Ben, wanna take that ride later?” he turned to his maybe – maybe not son and his heart practically melted when he saw the happy glimmer in his eyes.

“Hell, yeah!” Ben exclaimed.

* * *

 

It was late when they finally left.

They sat in the Impala and Dean felt like a big weight had been lifted from his shoulders when he saw Cas smile at him.

“You look happy,” he muttered. In the backseat Adam was already half asleep.

“Cas – ”

“I’m just saying. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but…the offer stands.”

_Damn you Cas, for being so understanding_

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Dean shrugged,  “Lisa was right. It doesn’t matter whether Ben is mine or not. I’m not his dad. Matt is.”

“You could be. If you wanted to, you could be.”

“Not without you.” And that was Dean’s last word. He’d always chose Cas because there was no real choice and Ben was safe here. Safe with his family.

* * *

 

“Lisa?” Dean groaned into the phone. It was the middle of the night and he was still half asleep. He heard a sob at the other end of the line. “Lisa are you okay?” he asked, suddenly wide awake.

“ _Dean,”_ her voice was choked, hardly audible, “ _It’s Matt, Dean._ ”

“What about him?”

“ _I think he’s dead._ ”

* * *

 

The three men arrived at Lisa’s house just in time to see the paramedics carrying out a body.

“What happened?” Dean asked as soon as he got to Lisa.

“He – he slipped in the shower. Banged his head open.” She wasn’t crying anymore, her voice hollow, distant.

“I’m sorry.” He didn’t dare ask for Ben because if he was right, it wasn’t Ben anymore. From the corner of his eye, he saw Cas and Adam coming around the corner of the house and Cas nodded. He’d found something. “Listen, you don’t have to stay here. Come back to the motel.”

“What about Ben?” she asked.

As if on cue, in that moment, the kid came running towards his mother and Dean was shocked to see how different he was. His eyes were exclusive fixed on Lisa and there was a hunger in his eyes. “Make them go away, mummy. I don’t like them here,” He almost whined.

“They’re just doing their job, darling,” Lisa answered and stroked her hand over Ben’s head, before turning back to Dean, “Thanks for the offer but I think it’s best for Ben to be here. Y’know…at his home.”

 “Alright, just…call me if anything…happens.”

He wanted so badly to explain. To tell her what was really going on, to warn her that her son wasn’t her son anymore, that he was dangerous. But he didn’t. He let her go back inside, hoping that it wasn’t too late to fix things.

“What’d you find?” he asked Cas.

“There were handprints on the side of the house. Just like the ones at Ferhad’s.”

“Blood?”

“I don’t think it’s blood,” Cas answered, “And I think I know what we’re dealing with and where to find the kids.”

* * *

 

“Alright, Cas, you go in front, Adam and I take the back,” Dean instructed when they got to a large, semi-finished building. Cas nodded sharply and made his way to the door while Dean and his half-brother went around the house. But before they entered he lay a hand on the younger man’s shoulder, making him stop.

“Adam, listen to me,” he urged him, “You do exactly as I say, understood? When I say run, you fucking run like your life depends on it, ‘cause it probably will. I won’t have you dying, just because you do something stupid.” He waited until Adam gave him a nod, his eyes wide and Dean could tell that the kid was nervous. “Alright. Let’s go in. Stay behind me.”

It didn’t take long for them to find the cages in which the children were kept and they quickly started freeing them, when Dean heard a bang from upstairs.

“Hurry up,” he hissed and smashed a window so the kids could crawl out. It made him proud to see Ben helping the others, supporting them while they climbed out the window, telling them that it would be alright. But also made him sad. No eleven-year-old should have to be so responsible.

Suddenly, the door burst open and Cas came running in, “There’s a mother,” he panted.

“What? A mother Changeling?”

“Yeah.”

“Great,” Dean groaned and picked the last child up to send it outside. Now it was just them and Ben.

“Go, Ben!” he shouted but Ben wasn’t listening. He wasn’t even looking at Dean, but at something behind him, his eyes wide with fear. Dean turned around and saw the Changeling kicking Adam in the chest, sending him flying across the room. “Fuck!”

He fumbled with his bag, trying to get the flamethrower out but he was too slow. He gasped when the Changeling’s fist connected with his jaw and for a second he was surprised at how strong she was, that is before she grabbed Dean and picked him up again and threw him against the wall like he weighted nothing. For a short moment, he saw stars, his head hurt and he was so tired. It would be easy to just stay here.

_Ben!_

With a groan, Dean forced himself onto his feet again and saw Ben, pressed against the wall, shivering with fear. Cas was lying passed out next to Adam.

“Hey, bitch!” Dean called and the mother Changeling turned around, realizing too late that Dean was holding his flamethrower.

* * *

 

The aftermath was never pretty, Dean knew that. This time? Bittersweet might be appropriate.

“Is he going to be alright?” he asked the doctor.

“Yes.”

They were at the hospital. Cas had been lucky; years and years of training had payed off and he got away with a mild concussion and several bruises. Adam was a whole other story. After the Changeling had finally died, Dean had first checked on the kids and then gone back inside where Cas had slowly regained consciousness. He had nearly freaked out when he had seen the blood on the back of Adam’s head. He’d been hit pretty badly and was still out, in addition to that he had a broken rib and a sprained wrist. But he would be alright.

“You should rest, Dean,” Cas muttered.

“I will,” he assured him, “There’s just one thing I need to do first.”

He pressed a gentle kiss on Cas’ forehead and walked outside to his car. He knew that Ben had safely gotten back home, but he still needed to know how they were holding up and Lisa deserved an explanation.

“Hey,” Lisa greeted him softly when she opened the door.

“Hey.”

“Come in. Ben’s asleep.”

“How is he?”

“Honestly? I don’t know.” With a sigh, Lisa rubbed her hand over her face. “He puts on a brave face and tells me that he’s fine but…I’m not sure I believe him.”

“He’s a tough kid.”

“He shouldn’t have to be. It’s wrong.”

Dean could see tears streaming down Lisa’s face and he really wanted to close his arms around her. But he didn’t. It wasn’t his place.

“He’ll be okay, I promise. Kids are much stronger than we give ‘em credit for.” He was speaking from experience on that one.

“Thank you, Dean. For everything. Ben told me what happened and…I mean I can’t say I understand it but…thank you.”

“It’s my job.” Dean shrugged and to his surprise Lisa began laughing. “What?”

“You never told me what you did. Back then. Always that it was ‘the family business’. Well, I guess now I know. Dean Winchester, the Monster Hunter.” There was something like awe in her eyes. “Cas is a very lucky man,” she whispered eventually.

“No.” Dean shook his head. “I’m the lucky one.”

Dean stayed until he heard Lisa’s breathing even out but before he left, he wrote a note for her telling her to call him if they ever needed help.

He had a very strange feeling when he finally got into bed next to Cas, like he had lost something. A life, he had never had in the first place.

 


	14. What Can't Kill You, Makes You Stronger (So I Heard, But I'm Going Under)

It took Adam weeks to get out of the hospital but when he finally did, he was as set on Hunting as ever. A true Winchester.

January faded into February, the air got warmer and by the time April rolled by, the first tender buds had broken through the ground and Dean felt like his life had been put on hold. Dad was still dead. Sam was still gone. The earth kept turning.

After the disaster in Indiana, they purposefully avoided the big Hunts, easing Adam into the Life with simple Salt’n’Burns or the occasional Cursed object and Adam was learning fast. Too fast, for Dean’s taste.

“Bobby, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” Dean was currently standing in the kitchen, contemplating if whisky in his coffee at ten in the morning was a good idea.

“Well the alternative would be to send the kid off with Jo, you know that,” Bobby grumbled.

“Yeah. That’s even worse.”

“Exactly.”

Dean was just about to reach for the whisky when Cas entered the kitchen and he quickly drew his hand away. The other Hunter hated it when Dean drank before 4 p.m.

“Alright,” Dean sighed and sat down, “Tell us about the case.”

“Wisconsin, Green Bay,” Bobby began, “Probably Vampires.”

“Huh,” was Dean’s only comment.

Lately, he had found himself more and more reluctant to do much of anything. He drunk more, even smoked the occasional cigarette, something he hadn’t done in over ten years. Cas said he was depressed. Dean just said that he finally saw things as they were. A steaming pile of shit.

“Come on, son. I know you’re worried about Sam, we all are and I promise you I’ll keep looking but in the meantime, you gotta get out there. For your own sake,” Dean knew that those were the kindest words he would get from Bobby and if he refused he’d be thrown out. Again. Until he had a grip on himself.

“Alright, alright. We’ll fucking take it.” Dean threw up his arms in defeat and went upstairs to pack his back. He could hear Cas and Bobby exchanging some words but he didn’t stay to listen.

The thing was that Dean Winchester, for the first time in his life, felt utterly and completely useless. He had no idea what he was doing with his life. Somehow, he knew that this was connected to seeing Lisa again and of course there was Ben. His son or maybe not, who knew? Dean certainly didn’t. The possibility of a life outside all this madness.

Long story short: Dean had doubts.

Why should he be the one to carry the weight of the fucking world on his shoulders?

Why should he be the one that had to save everyone?

Who would save him?

“Dean?” Cas’ tone told him that Cas had said his name several times already.

“Sorry. What?”

“Are you certain you’re up for this? I can do it on my own. Or we could call up other Hunters. I’m sure Garth would love the exercise.” The gentleness in Cas’ voice was too much for Dean to deal with right now but he smiled anyway, shaking his head.

“Nah,” he said, “It’s fine.”

He wasn’t sure if that was a lie. Bobby was right, he had to get out of the house but he just didn’t want to. It was so much easier shutting himself in in here, getting drunk and trying not to think. Thinking was bad. It made him remember things, like his brother, like John, like Lisa and Ben, like every person that had ever died because of him. It made him remember all the reasons why Dean did not deserve a peaceful life.

Cas kept staring at him for a solid minute before nodding but there was still a suspicious look in his eyes and Dean knew he didn’t believe him.

“Bobby wants to talk to you before we leave.”

Dean dimly wondered what it was that Bobby wanted to talk.

“Come here, son,” the old man said when he saw Dean standing in the door, “Your angel of a boyfriend reminded me that I need to grind off my edges once in a while,” he chuckled lightly, “You know that you’re like a son to me, right? I love you to bits, boy. You, Cas, an’ your brother, ‘cause you’re family and I’ll be damned if I let anything happen to ya. I’m proud of you, Dean.”

Dean stared at Bobby. His surrogate father. The man that supported and accepted him, no matter what and if there were tears filling Dean’s eyes, neither of them said anything.

Dean did feel considerably better when he got into the driver’s seat of the Impala and he could see the self-satisfied glint in Cas’ eyes and the twitch in the corners of his mouth and as much as Dean would have loved to wipe that smile of his face, he was mostly just grateful because Cas had seen right through Dean’s bullshit and let him hear what he had needed to hear.

* * *

 

According to Bobby, there had been eight dead bodies over the last three months, all drained of blood and two more were still missing.

“Vampires,” Cas confirmed after a quick look into the files.

“Maybe, or y’know, sometimes people just die,” Dean replied tired, knowing perfectly well that he was being unreasonable.

The motel they had checked into was actually quite decent but Dean still hated it. With a low groan, he let himself fall onto the bed.

“Well, I guess Adam and I will go over to the morgue,” he heard Cas muttering but didn’t really react to it. Suddenly there was a hand on his head, running through his hair and a pair of soft lips, ghosting over his skin. “When we come back, I want you to talk to me, okay?” Cas whispered, “I love you, Dean.”

* * *

 

At some point, Dean must have fallen asleep because when he opened his eyes again, it was already getting dark. He stood up with a groan; Cas and Adam weren’t back yet. Dean took his phone, a bottle of beer and the pack of cigarettes and went outside to smoke.

“You have five missed calls,” the phone told him while Dean took a deep drag from the cig, quickly follow by a mouthful of beer. Two of the five calls, were from Bobby, two from Ellen and the last one from Cas, who had also left a message.

“ _I assume you are asleep, or maybe you’re ignoring me. I hope not, though. We’ve just finished here; still looks like Vampires and we’ll pick something up for dinner on our way back. I hope burgers are okay. Call me, when you wake up._ ”

The message ended and Dean smiled around the cigarette because it was so thoroughly _Cas_. He was just about to call back when he saw the Impala rolling up the driveway. There was a crease of worry between Cas’ eyes when he walked towards Dean but only for a moment before he smiled.

“You feeling better?” he asked and Dean shrugged. He did feel better but…

“Hey, I wasn’t finished with that,” he complained when Cas took his beer and the cigarette from him, but it was only half-heartedly and Cas just winked. He dropped the cig and emptied the beer before going inside and Dean followed, shaking his head.

“So, the vics?” he asked, it was Adam that answered, “Bite marks, no drop of blood left in their system,” he sounded smug and his eyes practically screamed ‘I told you so’.

“Alright, you win, Vampires,” Dean answered, “What about the two missing persons?”

“Julian Jackson and his son Harry,” Cas answered and handed Dean a paper bag with his dinner.

“The mum?”

“Hasn’t been around for years.”

Instead of replying something, Dean took a bite from his burger and moaned obscenely.

“You want us to leave you two alone?” Adam joked and Dean flipped him off, enjoying the food. They ate in silence, and slowly but surely, Dean became more relaxed, his head getting clearer but he knew it was only a matter of time before it would hit again. Maybe, Cas was right. Maybe he did need help. Or maybe he should just talk about it.

“Cas,” before he could change his mind again, Dean stood up and walked towards the door, knowing that the other man would follow him. He pulled out another cigarette and this time, Cas let him, didn’t say anything.

“You were right.” Dean said eventually.

“I usually am.”

“Shut up.”

“Talk to me, Dean,” Cas almost whispered and Dean raised his head to meet those blue eyes.

“You were right,” he repeated, blowing out smoke, “All this shit with dad and Sam…I don’t know what to do,” he admitted and maybe it should have felt strange but it didn’t. It felt good, finally voicing it. “I never got to say the stuff I wanted to say to dad, never got tell him to just go and fuck himself for all the times he screwed us over. I am so angry with him. But at the same time, I miss him and I just want him back. D’you know how I knew that he was possessed? Because he said he was proud of me and dad would have never said that, I mean, how messed up is that? A fucking Demon was nicer than my own father!” He was trembling now, barely holding it together but it was okay, Cas was there, Cas had his hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. Cas was keeping his head above the water so he wouldn’t drown. “But I could have dealt with that,” he continued, “It would have been okay. But then Sam goes and pulls that stunt on me and I just can’t…I can’t lose him, Cas. Not for good.”

“Then you won’t.” It sounded so easy coming from Cas. “But I also won’t stand by and watch you destroy yourself, Dean.”

“Sometimes I wonder what I’m even doing, ya know? Hunting Monsters. It’s crazy, isn’t it? Hell, seeing Lisa again and meeting Ben…it got me thinking…what do I leave behind? Cause sooner or later I’ll bite the dust and what’s left of me then?”

“A lot of people who wouldn’t have survived without you. You’re a good man, Dean Winchester. And I don’t say that because you ‘Hunt Monsters’, I don’t even say it because you’re my boyfriend. I say it, because you only do what you believe is right and that’s all that matters.” Cas hesitated for a second. “And if you wanted to quit. Get out of the Life…I’d be there with you.”

“Thanks, Cas.”

They stayed like that for a moment, arms wrapped around each other, breathing in the spring air and Dean knew that he would be okay. They would be okay.

* * *

 

For the first time in what felt like months, Dean actually slept through the night. The nightmares had gotten worse after Sam’s disappearance, and when it wasn’t the ominous torture chamber it was someone he cared about, dying. First Cas, torn apart by a strange white light, then Jo and Ellen blown up in an explosion, Cas, ripped apart by an invisible force, Sam and Adam falling into an abyss. It was distressing. Of course, Dean had always had nightmares from time to time but never as bad as this. And never so… _vivid_.

Having a good night’s rest, was refreshing.

They sat down for a quick breakfast, going over what little they had so far. Eight victims, all of different ages, genders, and colours; seemingly random.

“So, where do we start? “ Adam asked and Dean was just about to answer when Cas held up his hand as a sign for him to wait.

“What do you suggest?” he asked in return.

“Uhm…” Adam blinked rapidly, not having expected the question, “Maybe, checking out the last places the victims were seen? Looking for any kind of connection?”

Cas nodded, “Let’s do that, then.”

Adam beamed at them and stood up to leave the diner and Cas was just about to follow him, when Dean held him back, “The fuck are you doing, man?” he asked irritated.

Cas frowned at him, tilting his head and Jesus Christ, this just wasn’t fair because Cas fucking _knew_ how adorable that was and Dean tried to be angry here, okay?

“What do you mean?” the innocence in Cas voice really shouldn’t be as cute as it was, but Dean managed to keep a straight face and snorted, “’What do you suggest?’” he echoed, “Seriously?”

“I don’t see what was wrong with that.” It slowly sank in, that Cas really didn’t know.

“I’ll tell you what was wrong with that,” Dean hisses, “We shouldn’t encourage him. We shouldn’t let him think that it’s okay to throw away his life for – for _this_. Adam actually has a chance, Cas.”

“He also has a choice,” Cas argues calmly, “He’s 20 years old and if he wants to Hunt, then that is what he should do. You and Sam, you’re the only family he has left and he looks up to you, Dean. He accepted you as his big brother the minute he saw you. He trusts you. At least try and give him a bit of trust in return. He’s not Sam, Dean.”

Dean was startled by the last sentence because, yeah, maybe, he might’ve, sorta projected something there. But he still stood by what he had said, he didn’t it that Adam was so eager to step in his father’s footsteps. But Cas did have a point.

“Alright.”

* * *

 

Julian and Harry Jackson had last been seen at the Bay Beach Amusement Park.

The sky was clear and the air almost warm but Dean still felt a shiver running down his spine when they arrived at the park. Rollercoasters, swing rides, a Ferris Wheel, the whole shebang. Adam smiled excitedly and it made sense, Dean supposed, Adam probably had a whole bunch of good memories of him and his mum, enjoying a nice summer day at something like this. Hell, maybe John had even taken him.

But Dean?

Dean had never set foot in an amusement park in his entire life. It hadn’t even crossed his mind, unless, of course, for a case. Like now. But this, seeing all those families and kids, running around, laughing and being happy? It did something to Dean. Something he couldn’t quite describe but he definitely didn’t like it.

There was a light touch at his hand and Dean didn’t even have to look down to know that it was Cas, offering comfort, even though the other man couldn’t possibly know the thoughts that went through Dean’s head, he must have noticed how tense Dean was. Ignoring that nagging voice in the back of his head, that told him he was being ridiculous, he laced their fingers together and strode forward.

Dean flashed his batch at the girl sitting at the entrance.

“FBI, we’d like to ask you a few questions. Were you working here last Saturday –” he glanced at the name tag on her shirt, “Kelly?”

“Yes, I work here every Saturday,” Kelly answered nervously.

“Do you remember this man?” he reached into his pocket and drew out a picture of Julian Jackson. Kelly took it to look at it with a frown, before shaking her head.

“No, sorry, there are hundreds of people here, every day,” she handed the picture back to Dean who pointed at the security cameras.

“What about those? Could we take a look at the footage?”

“Er, you’d have to ask Mr. Baker for that. He’s my boss.”

“And where would we find him?” Cas asked, giving the girl a kind smile.

“In his office I think, er, in the main building.”

“Thank you, Kelly.”

They walked inside, past families sitting on benches, eating ice cream and sandwiches. Adam still had that glimmer in his eyes, like a child on Christmas eve, while Cas looked nothing but professional. Dean wondered if he had been to amusement parks in his childhood. Probably, yes.

“Hello, we’re looking for Mr. Baker. We’re with the FBI.”

A short, chubby man in his mid-thirties looked up at them, smiling brightly.

“Well, you found him. What can I do for you, lads?” he asked cheery.

“Mr; Baker, I’m Agent Mortensen, this is Agent McKellen and our intern Adam Wood, we’re here on a case concerning two missing persons. Julian and Harry Jackson? They were last seen in your park,” Dean explained and once again, pulled out the photograph.

“Yes, yes I heard I about that.” Baker nodded. “Very sad. But I can assure you, I had nothing to do that. Hundreds and thousands of people come to this park.”

“We know, that’s why we’d like to look at your camera footage.”

“Oh, of course. Just through here.”

The man led them through a dimly lit corridor towards a heavy door with a sign saying ‘Staff only’. They went inside, six or seven screens hanging on the wall, each showing a different part of the park.

“Cherry, darling, would you give these Agents whatever they need?” Mr. Baker said and Dean noticed a woman sitting in front of the screens. Cherry looked at them rather unimpressed, chewing gum with her mouth open which made her look a bit like a cow, but she nodded slowly. “Perfect, Gentlemen, I have to get back to work.”

Without a further word, Baker was gone and Cherry kept staring at the door, before she turned back to her screens.

“He means he has to get to his mistress,” she informed them, “What do you wanna see?”

“Whatever you have from last Saturday,” Adam said eagerly, earning himself an exasperated look from Cherry, before she slowly answered, “There are exactly 100 cameras in this park, we are open from 10 to 6, which means there are 800 hours of footage from last Saturday,” Cherry said monotonously and the three Hunters stared at her for a moment before Adam reacted.

“Good point.”

He threw a helpless glance to Dean who took mercy on his little brother, half -brother. Whatever.

“Cherry, _darling_ ,” he winked at her, “Why don’t you get yourself a coffee, take a break, and we take it from here.”

Cherry kept chewing, seemingly bored out of her mind, before she stood up and left the room without saying a word. Dean took her place and looked up at the screens, frowning.

“What are we even looking for?” Adam asked.

“You tell me, kiddo. It was your idea to come here, after all,” Dean teased; he could practically feel Cas’ eyeroll behind his back. “Anyway, the eyewitness that saw Julian and Harry in the park works at a fast food joint around here and saw them around 1 p.m.” Dean skipped from one camera to another until he found said joint and began rewinding the video.

“Wow! Stop!” Adam cried but Dean had already seen what he meant. “What the hell is that?”

Dean didn’t answer immediately. He knew exactly what he was looking at, or rather who, but he couldn’t quite believe it.

“Is that - ?” Cas whispered and stepped closer to the screen, squinting.

“Yeah, it is,” Dean breathed.

“Who is she?” Adam asked.

“Her name’s Lenore,” Dean explained, “She’s a Vampire.”

“You know her?”

“Yeah. We were in Montana, few years back, couple o’ bodies and cattle mutilations. Turned out the bodies were dead Vamps and there was another Hunter in town. Gordon Walker. A-class jerk. He killed the Vamps but…they weren’t even doing anything. Killing people, I mean. They lived off animal blood, hence the cattles. Lenore was one of ‘em.”

“You let her go?” Adam sounded disbelieving, almost shocked.

“Course we let her go. She didn’t do anything. You know, Adam, if you really wanna do this, you gotta understand that the world isn’t just black and white. Sometimes you gotta see more than just what’s on the outside.” Dean was astonished by his own words.

_Holy fuck, if dad could see me now…_

But that just opened the door to a whole lot of other things that Dean did not want to think about and a part of him winced painfully at the utter bullshit he had just let out, the other part, however, the part that was thoroughly _Dean_ without any influence of John’s upbringing, agreed. The world was a colourful place.

Dean looked back at the screen, at Lenore. She was standing in the shadow of a tree, her eyes flaring at the camera; next to her, another woman, another Vampire, staring at the same direction at something they couldn’t see since it was outside of the frame.

“Well,” Dean began, “looks like we got a lead after all.”

* * *

 

Finding a certain woman in a town of 100.000 people was, obviously, like looking for a certain piece of hay in in a haystack. Frustrating and seemingly impossible.

“It’s not like we’ll find her in the Yellow Pages. Lenore’s smart. She knows how to keep a low profile.”

Cas looked up from where he was lying on the bed, “You don’t think she had anything to do with the bodies” It was a statement, not a question but Dean replied anyway.

“No.” He shook his head, still pacing the room. Thinking. “But there were several dead animals around here over the last couple months, so her Nest should definitely be here.”

He stopped his steps in front of the map they had pinned to the wall. Marks were spread all over it, showing the places where the bodies had been found, the amusement park and a few marks for dead cattle.

“Two different parts of the city,” Dean mused.

“What, you think there are two Packs?” Adam asked sceptically.

“It’s possible,” Cas answered before Dean had the chance, “The cattle deaths started before the first victim had been taken. It is entirely possible that Lenore and her people have been living here for months. Years, even.”

“We have to find her. Talk to her. Maybe she knows –” Dean’s words were interrupted by a knock on the door. Dean swivelled around and saw from the corner of his eye that Cas had straightened up on the bed, his hand on the gun next to him. Adam frowned but stayed still. Another knock. Dean pulled out his own gun and stepped closer to the door, giving Adam a sign to stay behind while Cas stood behind the door, his gun aimed at the wood. Dean opened the door carefully.

“Gordon?” he asked in disbelieve when he saw the man standing outside.

“Dean. You wanna let me in or are you gonna shoot me right here?”

Dean actually contemplated that option for a second but decided that it wasn’t worth the hassle.

“What’d you want?” he asked instead.

“Just talk. I’m not here to pick a fight.”

“That’d be something new,” Dean muttered but stepped away anyway because it was way more likely to attract attention if he let Gordon stand outside. The other man came in, his hands slightly raised so Dean could see them; he was moving cautiously, well aware that Cas had a gun pointed at him and that he wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger when needed. Gordon’s eyes fell on Adam and for a second he seemed confused but he didn’t say anything, instead he turned back to Dean who fixed him with a glare.

“So?”

“Like I said, I just wanna talk.”

“Then talk,” Cas snapped. His eyes were cold, relentless, and Dean couldn’t blame Gordon when he took a step back. Cas was a scary man when he wanted to be.

“You’re Hunting the Vamps?” he asked.

“Maybe. What’s it to you?”

“I am too. Seems like we’re after the same thing. Again.” Dean snorted contemptuously. “I can tell you where they’re hiding out. I didn’t come here because of that.”

“Then why did you come?”

“Where’s your brother, Dean?” Gordon asked suddenly.

“What?”

He must have heard that wrong.

“Your brother,” Gordon repeated, “Sam. Where is he?”

Swallowing the rising panic inside him, Dean managed to hiss, “Why? You wanna ‘talk’ to him as well?”

“You have no idea, do you?” Gordon asked quietly, “You don’t know what they say about sweet little Sammy…” his voice was a mixture of amusement and wonder and Dean hated it. He hated the fact that Gordon had such power, hated that he had a very good idea about what people might be saying about his brother. He hated himself for not being there to protect him.

“And what do they say?” he asked nevertheless because it was better if Gordon thought he was completely clueless.

“Your brother is a freak. A little Psychic boy,” Gordon spat out, “He needs to be taken down.”

“Don’t you dare talk about my brother that way.”

Dean hadn’t realized that he had moved but somehow he ended up pressing Gordon against the wall, faces just inches apart, his gun, pressed against Gordon’s temple. There was a moment in which Gordon seemed surprised, scared even, before he began smirking and Dean cursed internally because he did exactly what Gordon had wanted him to do. He had let him get to him. He had lashed out.

“Dean.” Cas’ voice was calm but demanding. A single word, carrying so many messages, and Dean understood them all.

It said, _don’t kill him, he’s not worth it._

It said, _it was stupid of you to give him what he wanted._

It said, _Sam is fine, or at least he will be if you keep calm._

It said, _I love you but you’re being an idiot_.

And Dean stepped back. He was still tense, still ready to rush forward again if Gordon tried something, but Cas was right. He was being an idiot.

“I don’t know where Sam is and even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. Now, get _out_.” Dean had raised his voice on the last words but of course Gordon wasn’t impressed.

“If you even had a spark of reason in that thick head of yours you’d do it yourself, Dean. Have mercy on your brother, cause I sure as hell won’t once I find him. He’s hanging out with Demons, d’you know that? Fraternizes with the enemy. He’s murdered people in cold blood. He’s the Antichrist.” If it wasn’t for Gordon’s eyes, Dean would have said that he’d lost his mind, except there was no sign of madness, no insanity. Gordon truly believed every word he said; that Sam was evil, that he needed to be put down before it was too late.

“Get out,” Dean growled one last time and he swore if he had to repeat himself a third time he would –

“Okay.”

His thoughts must have shown in his face because Gordon was retreating, carefully, considering every step he took before he did so, trying not to make any sudden movements. He reached the door and opened it slowly and just before he was about go outside, he stopped. “The Nest your looking for hides out underneath the Bay Beach Amusement Park.” Gordon didn’t turn around, his voice was low, but Dean still understood every word. “There’s an underground system connecting the park with the Bay Beach Wildlife Sanctuary, there are several entrances but you might want to use the one near the car park of the Animal Centre. Good look.”

Then Gordon was gone and Dean did what he had wanted to do the second he had seen him. Dean screamed. It was a scream of frustration and grief, a scream of anger and scream of pain. Gordon was lying. He had to be.

“Sam’s not a killer,” Dean whispered frantically.

“Well, technically –” Cas began but Dean cut him off, “Not helping, Cas!” he snapped but again, he knew Cas was right.

_Technically_ , Sam was very much a killer, just as Dean was or Cas, or even Adam by now.

_Technically_ , Sam would be able to take out anybody he wanted without breaking a sweat and even if he had had an eight-yearlong break, Sam still had the brain of a genius and one year back in the Life, had been enough to dust off his memories.

_Technically,_ he knew that Gordon might have been telling the truth.

But this wasn’t a question of technicalities.

Dean simply refused to believe that Sam could have done it.

“Who are you calling?” Dean asked when he saw Cas with his phone pressed to his ear.

“Bobby,” Cas explained, “We need to find out if Gordon was telling the truth.”

“What if he did?” Dean had almost forgotten that Adam was there as well. Still sitting on the bed, looking up at Dean with wide eyes. “What would you do?”

“What would I do? I’d kill every last one that laid a finger on him and then I’d lock Sam up in Bobby’s panic room so they can’t get to him,” Dean answered harshly.

_This isn’t Adam’s fault,_ he reminded himself. _This isn’t anybody’s fault, except yours because you let him go. Because you failed him._

Before Dean could think about it properly he had fled the motel room and gotten into the Impala.


	15. Lost But Not Forsaken

When Dean finally stopped the car and realized where he was, he groaned in-and outwardly. It hadn’t been a conscious decision to come here of all places but he should have known that he would.

The parking lot of the Wildlife Sanctuary Animal Centre was small, shady from the trees surrounding it. Dean knew he should turn around. He knew he was being reckless and unprofessional and what he was doing was in the ‘Top Ten Of Things That Get You Killed On A Hunt’- list but the thing was…the thing _was_ …Dean didn’t care.

All he wanted was for his brother to come back but that wouldn’t happen, so what the hell. It didn’t matter. Not really.

_But what about Cas?_

He tried his best to ignore the nagging voice in the back of his head because Cas would be fine. Cas was strong and independent and fucking badass and sure, he might be upset if something happened to Dean but he’d get over it…wouldn’t he?

He had left the car by now, machete in one hand, a flash light in the other because it was slowly getting dark and Gordon had said something about tunnels. Dean walked towards the line of trees, cautiously listening for any sounds but all was quiet.

Finding the actual entrance was easy and Dean soon found himself at the top of a flight of stairs; the air was cold and dry and Dean raised the flash light to see better. The bare stone walls were surprisingly smooth, the stairs, even. Someone had invested a lot of time in these tunnels.

Following his instincts, Dean walked through the darkness, careful not to make too many sounds, always listening if something was moving around him; he was well aware that he was going right into a lion’s den, or y’know, Vampire’s den. Whatever. Same difference.

“It was stupid of you to come here,” a haughty sounding voice echoed through the tunnels and Dean immediately froze, trying to determine here the voice had come from, “Winchester.”

The fact that the Vampire knew his name wasn’t exactly reassuring but Dean refused to give in to the creeping fear that was starting to build up inside of him; he needed a clear head.

Something shifted on his right but Dean didn’t move, he knew better than that. They were playing a game and he refused to lose. A shadow scurried past him, a whooshing sound, a draft and suddenly something – no someone – was directly in front of him but Dean had been waiting for exactly that moment and he charged.

Fist fights with Vampires were not exactly something he could recommend; that much Dean could say after receiving a hit against his jaw. All he needed was to get enough distance between them so he could actually use his machete. The flash light had long since shattered on the ground and the darkness wasn’t really helping; he was in disadvantage here. Vampires didn’t need light, Dean did.

On impulse, Dean closed his eyes and took one deep breath. He could feel the blood pumping through his veins, the adrenaline, the anticipation. He could hear his own heartbeat, fast and steady and for the split of a second, it all seemed to slow down.

The Vampire was standing in front of him. It was merely a presence that Dean could feel but it was enough. With one swift, precise kick, he pushed the Vampire back against the wall of the tunnel, the machete already raised to –

“Stop!”

Dean wasn’t even sure why but he stopped. Light exploded in his face and Dean squinted, trying to make out the familiar shape in front of him.

“Lenore?” he asked, just to be sure.

“Dean Winchester.” It seemed like the Vampire couldn’t decide whether to be scared or angry to see him but that was okay. At least he wouldn’t die just yet. “I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

“Believe me, the feelings mutual,” Dean muttered.

His eyes had adjusted to the new brightness and he took the opportunity to have a proper look at Lenore. It was obvious now that a few years had passed since they had last met. Not because she had gotten older, she was a Vampire after all, but because those years hadn’t treated her well. Her hair was no longer long and shiny but dull and short, her skin seemed unnaturally pale and her eyes were those of a dead person. Dean wondered what had happened.

“If you wanted to check up on us, there would have been nicer ways than breaking into our Nest.”

“Assuming that I knew it was your Nest, which I didn’t,” Dean replied teasingly but neither Lenore, nor the unknown Vampire smiled. “Who’s your friend anyway?” he asked instead.

“I’m Kate,” the woman said, glaring Dean, “I met your father once, he destroyed my life.”

“Yeah, he does that.”

“What do you want, Dean? We’re clean, all of us.” Lenore’s voice was almost pleading and Dean felt sorry for her. She was a good person.

“I believe you. Remember Gordon Walker?” Lenore paled even more. “He tipped me off. I knew you were in town, just not that it was you who lived here. There’s a second Pack and they’re killing people.”

It was Kate who answered, “We know. We’ve been hiding out here for months, living of rats and stray cats. It’s humiliating.”

“Can you tell me where their Nest is?” Dean asked hopefully.

Lenore shook her head, “No,” she answered, “But I know who leads the Pack. Barbara Jackson.”

“Wait – Jackson? Same Jackson as Julian and Harry? The two missing people?”

“Yeah.”

“Shit.”

Kate opened her mouth as if to say something when suddenly three men appeared at her side, after throwing a quick glance at Dean, they turned towards Lenore.

“Someone’s coming,” the tallest of the three informed Lenore, who groaned in frustration.

“Winchester, if you led your little Hunter friends here, I swear I’m going to forget myself and kill you personally,” she hissed, before grabbing his arms rather forcefully and dragging him down the tunnel.

Dean wasn’t interested in a fight so he decided to cooperate for now, still, he remained vigilant because these Vampires might have gone vegan but that didn’t mean that they weren’t dangerous anymore.

They entered a room of sorts, although Dean saw it more as a huge underground hall. It was cool down here, but still dry and clean. Along the stony walls lay mattresses on the floor, with piles of blankets and pillows. On the other side of the room was a large table with empty bottles of beer and whisky.

“Well, this is cosy,” he joked but the only response he got was a deadly glare from Lenore and a few rolled eyes.

_There’s that, then._

He thought and stayed silent; so did the five Vampires. From afar, Dean could hear steps carefully treading through the dark tunnels, _definitely Hunters,_ Dean thought because no normal person would walk like that, unless they’d anticipate a threat. Dean wasn’t sure how long they waited like that, quietly waiting in the dark, listening.

“I swear if he got himself killed, I’m going bring him back and kill him again.”

_Wait what?_

“Cas?” Dean called out and with that the spell was broken.

Kate grabbed him from behind, her hand pressed on his mouth while two of the men held his arms. They were strong, much stronger than him but it was too late anyway because of course, Cas had heard him and seconds later a bright light entered the room and he could see Cas and Adam standing there, eyes wide, both of them holding guns.

“Let him go,” Cas demanded.

“Castiel,” Lenore said and waved towards the others to let go of Dean. It was obvious that they’d rather rip of his head than obey Lenore but she also seemed to be their leader which meant they had to do what she said.

“Lenore,” Cas acknowledged her with a sharp not before striding forward, “Dammit, Dean,” was all he said before pulling him in into a bruising kiss.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean croaked once their lips had parted, “Fancy seeing you here.”

He made a pathetic attempt at a smile but as soon as he saw the thin line of Cas’ lips and the hard look in his eyes, he dropped it.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah, but I’m your –”

“Dean Winchester if you’re even thinking of finishing that sentence I swear, I might actually still kill you.”

It was only then, that Dean realised how scared Cas must have been. His shoulders were still tense and his hands were shaking ever so slightly.

“Sorry,” he muttered. He knew it wasn’t enough. He knew Cas deserved better than that, better than him but this was neither the time, nor the place to talk about this. Cas shook his head, still glaring at Dean but there was also a great amount of relieve.

* * *

 

“You’re pissed at me,” Dean stated.

They were back in the motel, Dean sitting on his and Cas’ bed, Adam on the other, while Cas was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed in front of his chest. He didn’t answer, but rather snorted contemptuously and continued glaring daggers at Dean. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“You could have died,” Cas retorted.

“I could die any day, Cas.”

“Not because of something stupid like this.” Cas shook his head. His voice was still low, calm, but Dean would have preferred it if Cas had been shouting. The cold in his voice was almost unbearable. “And it’s not like this was the first time. The Ghost in Florida?”

“That was a mistake,” Dean muttered embarrassed at the memory.

“That was avoidable. But you didn’t think, just like you weren’t thinking today.” Cas dropped his hands and slowly walked towards Dean. “I meant what I said, Dean. If you want out, I’ll be there with you.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

“I won’t.” Dean raised his head to meet Cas’ eyes, trying to make him understand. Hunting was all he knew, all he had, and he had done so many horrible things that he just didn’t deserve an ordinary life, and even if he did; he knew what was out there, how was he supposed to ignore that?

“Okay.” Cas nodded and stopped right in front of Dean, crouching down, his hands, on Dean’s knees. “But then you have to promise me to stop what you’re doing right now. I know you’re hurting and that there is this huge, deep darkness trying to consume you and I know you’re scared...” his voice trailed off but he kept looking in Deans eyes and Dean looked right back. There was a pair of calloused, yet, soft hands grabbing his. “You have to promise that you won’t let go,” Cas finally continued, “Because you might be content with dying at this point, because you might not care, but I do, Dean. I need you.”

Dean’s eyes grew wide, because for all the words Cas had said to him over the years, for all the times, he had said that he loved him, he had never, not once, said that he needed Dean. It was terrifying and encouraging at the same time.

Dean swallowed and found himself nodding in agreement, he strengthened his own grip on Cas’ hands before whispering, “I promise.”

Cas smiled, it was a real smile, full emotions that Dean couldn’t even distinguish, there was sadness and happiness, relieve and adoration and so much love.

“I’m still pissed at you,” Cas said eventually but his voice was soft and Dean couldn’t help but to smile back faintly.

There were retching noises coming from Adam’s bed and Dean’ smile grew bigger because really? The boy seemed to embrace the role of the young brother beautifully.

“Shut up, Adam,” Dean said loudly without looking up from Cas. He heard Adam snickering but that was okay, too.

They were family, after all.

* * *

 

The next morning came and the sun seemed to shine just a little bit brighter and a little bit warmer through the curtains into their motel room. Dean lay awake in bed, listening to the steady rhythm of Adam’s and Cas’ breathing. Eventually, Dean got out of bed to get some breakfast.

When he returned Cas and Adam were both awake, more or less anyway.

“Dude, do you know what time it is? What’re you doin’ out bed?” Adam groaned from under his covers.

“Shut your cakehole, short stuff. I brought coffee.” The effect of those words was astonishing. Within seconds, Adam was out of bed snatching one of the cups from his hands, while Cas, slowly but surely, made his way to the table.

“I take it back, you’re amazing,” Adam grinned in between sips.

“Damn right I am,” Dean muttered.

They had fallen into a comfortable silence, when Dean remembered, “Cas?” he asked.

“Huh?”

“What did Bobby say? Yesterday?” He wasn’t even sure he wanted to know but maybe he had to. This was Sam they were talking about.

The long, sad look, Cas gave him was almost answer enough. But only almost.

“Gordon might have been right. Two Hunters were killed in the last six months, Steve Wendell and Johnny Campbell. Sam was seen at the crime scene both time, together with a dark haired woman.”

“Ruby?” Dean asked, remembering the girl from Iowa.

“Presumably.”

“Great, so what? Sam and his girlfriend are playing Bonnie and Clyde?” Dean huffed.

“I’m sorry, Dean.”

“Not your fault.”

“Neither is it yours.”

“Yeah well, jury’s still out on that.”

He could feel Cas’ eyes on him like a weight but he ignored it. The last thing he wanted to talk about now, was his failure with Sam. He dimly realized that Adam had started talking and seriously, did the kid ever shut up? But he didn’t listen. He –

“Argh!”

A sharp pain, like thousands of needles boring into his brain.

“Dean? Dean are you okay?”

“Fine,” he choked out.

_What the hell was –_

“Argh, son of a –”

 

_The street was empty, abandoned._

_Houses left and right, with doors wide open._

_Windows smashed._

_There was a bell, old and massive, hanging from a wooden structure, an oak tree engraved into the surface._

_Sam was standing in the middle of a room, his brow furrowed. He looked concerned, lost._

_A man stood next to him, tall and confident, dressed in a military uniform._

_A small woman with brown hair, her lips were moving as if she was talking but no sound left her mouth._

_Everything was quiet._

 

“Dean?”

Dean opened his eyes, realizing he was lying on the floor. Both, Cas and Adam were looking down at him, brows furrowed and eyes full of worries.

“’m good,” Dean groaned and sat up. “’m good, just…” Dean blinked. Once. Twice. “We need to go.”

“What?” Cas asked perplexed.

“It’s Sam. Cas…I saw him?”

“You mean you had a vision?”

“Yeah. Sort of.”

“What did you see?” Adam asked, so Dean told them.

“- and there was this sort of engraving on the bell.”

“What kind of engraving?”

“A tree? I think.”

“An Oaktree?” Adam asked

“Er…yes…?”

“That’s in South Dakota. Cold Oak, one of the most famous haunted places in the US.”

“How do you even know that?” Dean asked, confused for a moment but Adam just shrugged. “When I was twelve I was obsessed with ghost stories,” he muttered, while Dean was back on his feet.

“Right. Anyway, let’s get our stuff and hit and the road.”

“What about the case?” Cas asked.

“Fuck the case.” He couldn’t quite believe that he had just said that. “Call Bobby, tell him to set someone else on it.”

Dean was waiting outside. The cigarette in his mouth tasted foul, wrong, and he threw it away, cursing under his breath. He thought of Sam and of all the things that had happened to them during the past year and a half and suddenly a cold shudder ran down his spine.

_“I wanna know why. Why’d you do it?”_

_“You mean why did I kill mommy and pretty, little Jess? You want to know why? Because they got in the way.”_

_“In the way of what?”_

_“My plans for you, Sammy. You... and all the children like you. Should have been a whole lot sooner too but something wasn’t right. Something hid you from my sight, I wanna know what, so it doesn’t happen again.”_

The voices echoed through his head, Sam and the Yellow-Eyed Demon.

Sam, Max Miller, Andy Gallagher and his brother Ansem. How many more were there?

_My plans for you, Sammy. You... and all the children like you._

Could that be it? He hadn’t really payed any attention to it, until now. Too preoccupied with looking for his brother but…it made sense, didn’t it? The Demon had killed their mum, theirs and who knew how many others’ and that hadn’t just been for shits and giggles. There was a plan there, Dean just couldn’t see it yet. Something had happened that night, the Demon had done something to Sam, and Mary had interrupted, and now Sam was in danger once again and now that last meeting with Sam made sense too because Sam knew. Sam had figured it out and he had tried to protect Dean by staying away from him.

Eyes closed, Dean took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair, trying to stay calm.

“Dean?”

Dean hadn’t even noticed the others coming out of the room but now they all stood in front of the Impala and both Cas and Adam looked at him as if he was about to drop dead any second and that couldn’t be. He was supposed to be strong. He was supposed to protect them.

“Come on,” Dean rasped, ignoring the look the other two exchanged.

They had just driven off the parking lot of the motel when Cas called Bobby, “Bobby, it’s me,” he said, “I know sorry. It’s important. Dean had a…vision – I would have explained that if you had let me speak – it’s about Sam. We believe that he is in Cold Oak, South Dakota, we’re headed there right now.”

Dean wasn’t sure how long Cas and Bobby spoke since he tuned it out at some point, concentrating on the road ahead and the music coming from the radio.

 

_Ramblers in the wilderness we can’t find what we need  
We get a little restless from the searching  
Get a little worn down in between  
Like a bull chasing the matador is the man left to his own schemes  
Everybody needs someone beside em’ shining like a lighthouse from the sea  
_  
_Brother, let me be your shelter_  
_Never leave you all alone_  
 _I can be the one you call_  
 _When you’re low_  
 _Brother, let me be your fortress_  
 _When the night winds are driving on_  
 _Be the one to light the way_  
 _Bring you home_  
  
_Face down in the desert now there’s a cage locked around my heart_  
 _I found a way to drop the keys where my failures were_  
 _Now my hands can’t reach that far_  
 _I ain’t made for a rivalry I could never take the world alone_  
 _I know that in my weakness I am strong, but_  
 _It’s your love that brings me home_  
  
_Brother, let me be your shelter_  
 _Never leave you all alone_  
 _I can be the one you call_  
 _When you’re low_  
 _Brother, let me be your fortress_  
 _When the night winds are driving on_  
 _Be the one to light the way_  
 _Bring you home_  
  
_And when you call and need me near_  
 _Sayin' where'd you go?_  
 _Brother, I'm right here_  
 _And on those days when the sky begins to fall_  
 _You're the blood of my blood_  
 _We can get through it all_  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song lyrics: "Brother" by Needtobreathe


	16. The Eye Of The Hurricane

“Dean are you even listening?” Cas asked, starting Dean out of his thoughts.

“No,” he admitted.

Cas sighed before continuing, “Apparently, Steve Wandell was an old friend of your mum. Johnny Campbell was a distant relative of her and if you just look deep enough, you’ll find that any person that has ever known your mother, is dead. Family, friends, colleagues.”

“Huh.”

“Dean, we won’t get any quicker to Cold Oak by getting pulled over by the police because of speeding, so slow down,” Cas said calmly but again. Dean ignored him. “Anyway, Bobby, Ellen and Jo are on their way to South Dakota right now, we’re going to meet them there.”

“Okay,” Dean muttered absently, before registering what Cas had said. “Wait, what? Why?”

“Because, Dean, Sam is family, and you’re not the only one who is worried. He’s your brother, yes, but he is also my friend, and as good as Bobby’s son. Because whatever we’re walking into here, it won’t be good. If this is connected to the Demon, and I know that you think so, then this is, in fact, very bad and we could need all the help we can get.”

Cas was right of course, not that Dean would admit that. In fact, his thoughts had already drifted off again and he was wondering what a Demon might possibly want with a bunch of humans.

“One human,” he muttered.

“What?” Cas asked.

“He doesn’t need them. Not all of them. He wouldn’t have let them die if he did.”

“Dean, what are you talking about?” Cas asked confused, he probably wondered if Dean had hit his head back in the motel.

“Think about it, Cas.” Dean tried to stay calm. “Yellow-Eyes has all these ‘special children’ as he calls them but at least two of them are already dead. If he really needed all of them, he would have made sure that they survived,” he explained.

“What are you saying? That he only needs one?” Cas asked, finally catching on, “But then why would he make so many?”

“Beats me. But I don’t like it.”

He accelerated even more and this time, Cas didn’t object.

* * *

 

The first thing they saw when arriving in Cold Oak was a blonde woman dangling from the water tower.

“Holy shit, what happened here?” Adam asked, his eyes wide as he stared at the body. No one bothered to actually give an answer to that so they just turned away towards the house behind them. There was something about it that made Dean very uneasy, something that smelled like Sulphur, almost causing him to gag.

“There’s more,” Cas called from the next room and Dean hurried to get to him. Two dead bodies lay on the floor, one of them was Andy.

“Oh man, really? I actually liked that kid,” Dean muttered and crouched down, examining the wounds on Andy’s body. “He was ripped apart by a Demon,” he observed.

“So was she.” Cas stood over the second body, a girl with brown hair, her skin torn open, bloody. Dean stared at the empty eyes and the eyes seemed to stare back at him, while he tried to ignore the lump in his throat and the constant _SamSamSamSam_ in his head, like a broken record.

_He’s fine. He has to be._

There was a creak coming from somewhere inside the house. Dean immediately pulled out his gun and stepped next to Cas, Adam behind them.

_Creak._

The sounds were coming from the hallway, faint footsteps, slowly coming closer. _Creak._ Both Cas and Dean got in position next to the door, waiting for whatever was approaching – _creak –_ Dean tightened his grip on the gun and met Cas’ eyes – _creak –_ who nodded in confirmation, just as a small figure with long blonde hair came into the room and Dean could only just stop himself before he would have shot her.

“Jo?” he asked in disbelief, relaxing slightly but still, he didn’t lower the gun. He saw that Cas slowly pulled out a flask with Holy Water, while Jo’s attention was still on Dean. 

“Yes, genius. What the hell happened here?” she asked and readily took the flask from Cas to drink. Nothing happened.

“Demons,” Dean answered while putting away his weapon, “Three bodies.”

“Make that four, ya idjit,” Bobby came into the house, looking gruff as ever and if Dean hadn’t known him so well, he wouldn’t have noticed that the circles under his eyes were a little bit darker and his eyes a little bit sadder, “’nother kid lying out in the field. Just what have you boys gotten yourselves into again?”

And Dean wanted to explain, he wanted to tell Bobby everything he knew and everything he suspected but the only thing that came out of his mouth was a broken, “Sam,” and he had to keep telling himself that _it’s not him out there, he’s alive. He’s fine._

Bobby’s eyes softened and he nodded like he understood, and maybe he did. “You’re brother’s fine. He’s a tough kid.”

“I know,” _that’s what worries me._ He wasn’t even sure why but just seeing these dead bodies scared him because what if Sam… _no, that’s ridiculous. Sam’s not a killer –_

_Well, technically -_  

_Still not helping._

“Bobby, do you have any idea what is happening?” Cas’ voice brought Dean back to reality and he saw a dark shadow fall on the older man’s face.

“Yeah. It ain’t pretty,” he answered.

“Feel free to elaborate.”

“Demons are gathering all over Wyoming, except for one spot. It’s like they’re surrounding it.”

“Why?”

“Ellen’s working on that right now.”

“Awesome.” Dean gritted his teeth. He had no idea what to do, feeling completely helpless and Dean hated feeling helpless. He turned around and saw that Adam had his arm slung around Jo’s waist, both of them looking grave, tired.

Bobby’s phone rang and Dean watched him as he fished it out of his pocket.

“Yeah?” There was a moment of silence in which Bobby listened and it was obvious that he didn’t like what he was hearing, his lips pressed together in a thin line, his eyes hard. “Balls! Alright, we’re on our way.” He put the phone away before looking directly at Dean. “That was Ellen,” he explained, “Good news and bad. We might know where Sam is but he is probably about to do something really stupid.”

* * *

 

It was a seven-hour drive from Cold Oak, South Dakota to the Devil’s Gate in Wyoming but it felt like an eternity. No one spoke except for the occasional swearing, which came mainly from Dean.

“I swear when we get there I’m gonna fucking kill him. What the hell was he thinking? Fucking idiot, just running off –”

“Dean. “

“What?!”

“We’re here.”

In fact, they were.

For a split of a second, Dean actually forgot his anger and stared at the railway lines in front of him with a mixture of awe and horror. Samuel Colt had been a genius. The lines were massive and made of pure iron and there was no way any Demon could cross them. Except Sam wasn’t a Demon.

“I’m gonna kill him,” he repeated furiously.

“No, you’re not,” Bobby grumbled as he strode past Dean, “Now stop whining and move your ass, princess.”

He heard snickering behind his back and glared at Adam and Jo who just grinned even wider before following Bobby across the tracks.

It was a long walk and all there was to see was flat land covered in grass but Dean wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings. His thoughts were with Sam. His little brother. The man he had raised and who had become a stranger somewhere along the way. It hurt. Up until now, Dean hadn’t even realized just how much because there had still been hope. Hope that Sam was alive and save. Now? Now Sam was out to do something stupid and probably get himself killed in the process and for what? To keep Dean safe from whatever threat was out there? To revenge their mum and Jess? To get his life back together? The changes had been obvious over the months leading up to dad’s death – to _Dean’s_ death – and yet Dean had been blind, had been unwilling to see just how different his brother was from the kid he had once known…and the fucked up thing was…none of that made him any less Dean’s brother and Dean would be damned if he let anything else happen to his little Sammy.

However, all the horror scenarios in the world, couldn’t have prepared Dean for what he was seeing when they reached a graveyard in the middle of nowhere. There was a crypt there, an old crypt, with heavy, wooden doors. And there was Sam, standing at the door, holding a gun in his hand.

“Sam!” he bellowed and he saw Sam’s posture stiffening but he didn’t turn around.

“Dammit.” he cursed and ran towards his brother. Or at least he tried to.

“Stay back.” Sam commanded and Dean – stayed back.

_What am I doing?_ He thought frantically.

All he wanted was to reach his brother and pull him into a hug. Or punch him. Probably both.

“What the hell are you doing Sam?” he demanded. Sam still wasn’t looking at them.

“I’m sorry, Dean,” the younger Winchester said.

“Stop fucking apologizing and just stop it.”

“I can’t,” Sam whispered and finally turned around – except – Dean immediately wished he hadn’t. Dried blood and dirt covered Sam’s face and his clothes but that wasn’t the reason Dean nearly threw up. No, there was something in his eyes. Something dark. “I’m sorry, Dean,” he repeated before turning back to the door and sticking the gun, _the Colt,_ as Dean only now realized, into a lock.

“Sam, don’t!” someone yelled but it was already too late. They all watched in horror as the engravings on the door began to move and Dean didn’t even realize that he could move again until Bobby rushed past him and shoved Sam out of the way. The engravings snapped in place and the doors began to rattle like something was pushing against them from the other side.

“Take cover – now!”

They only just managed to jump behind tombstones when the doors burst open and Dean could see a massive cloud of black smoke rushing over his head. A few feet away, behind another gravestone, he could see Cas and Jo, crouching on the ground. Staring at the sky in terror.

“Dean!” Dean turned his head and looked at Bobby. “We have to close the Gate!” Bobby shouted but although Dean could hear the words and knew what they meant, he didn’t understand them. Just kept staring at the older man, paralyzed.

_Sammy did this._ Was the only clear thought in his head. _My little brother opened the Gates of Hell._

“Dean!”

“Yeah, yeah…” he muttered and peeked over the stone towards the door, “Shit.”

He could see Sam lying on the ground, probably unconscious and made a decision. Staying close to the ground, Dean approached the gaping hole, swallowing the fear rising inside of him, edging closer and closer to his brother. From the corner of his eye, he could see Bobby and Ellen doing the same.

“The doors, Dean!” Bobby yelled at him, but Dean just shook his head and pointed at Sam. A large gash ran across his forehead and when Dean cupped his face with his hands, Sam gasped and snapped his eyes wide open. There was fear and confusion in his face and in that moment, it didn’t matter what Sam had done. None of that mattered, because he was _right there_ and he was _alive._

Distantly, he registered that the noise had stopped, which probably meant that Bobby and Ellen had shut the gates but that was far away and he only had eyes for his little brother.

“Aww, that is so sweet. Excuse me but I might throw up,” a sneering voice came from behind them. Dean didn’t even have to turn around to know who it belonged to but he did anyway. A man with grey hair stood a few feet away from them, confident and tall, with a malicious smirk on his face, His eyes were yellow.

“You.” Dean spat on the ground.

“Me.” The Demon grinned even wider, stepping forward and Dean was immediately on his feet, ready to attack. He knew that he couldn’t actually hurt the Demon since he didn’t have the Colt on him but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try.

“Dean, don’t,” Sam croaked.

“Shut up, Sam,” Dean snapped without looking down.

“You hear that, Sammy? Shut up,” Yellow-Eyes parroted mockingly, “I think your brother is slightly upset over what you did here. I can’t say I blame him…You’ve been _very_ cooperative.”

“You bastard.” By the sound of Sam’s voice, he too, had stood up. “You did this. Dean, I swear I never meant for this to happen, I –”

“I said, shut up!” He just couldn’t deal with that right now.

“That was rude, Sammy,” the Demon said, “And here I was thinking we became such good friends…I mean…we’re practically family. And I know how you feel about family. So loyal, even now. But I know you’re stronger than that, Sam. You’re stronger than your brother. You don’t need him, you never did.”

“You knew, didn’t you?” Sam asked quietly, “You knew he was alive this whole time.”

“Of course, I knew,” Yellow-Eyes exclaimed with an exasperated eye-roll, “I was the one who closed the deal. Your daddy was so eager to die, he didn’t even ask for his ten years.”

“You lied to me!”

“Demon.” He winked at Sam. “Don’t be so offended. I know you enjoyed yourself.”

“I only did what I had to do to keep my family safe.”

“Just keep telling yourself that, Sammy. I know you. I know you loved it.”

“No.” Sam shook his head vehemently.

“The blood,” the Demon whispered, “The pain. Seeing them suffer. It’s who you are, Sam,” he continued.

“Shut up.”

“Fucking my daughter.”

“I said shut up!” Sam yelled and before Dean could even register what was happening, Yellow-Eyes was tensing up, his eyes growing wide in shock as he stared at Sam who was glaring back, his breath coming out in hard, violent pants, one of his hands held out and then Dean watched in stunned horror as the Demon started chocking, black smoke coming out of his mouth, his nose, his very pores and then Sam clenched his fist and –

_What?_

The body – the meatsuit – dropped to the ground with a soft thud, all trades of smoke gone, and Sam was standing next to Sam, panting, his eyes fixed on the motionless body before slowly looking at Dean.

 “Dean,” he whispered but Dean cut him off, “Don’t,” he said, “Just don’t.”

“You have to understand –” Sam pleaded, struggling with the words, “I didn’t know, okay? I thought you were dead – you _were_ dead! And I couldn’t – I didn’t know what to do and then Ruby showed up, telling me how she could help me and that she could keep the others safe, that they were in danger…I was protecting you!”

“Protecting us?” Dean repeated in disbelief, staggering backwards, “Sam, you opened the Gates of Hell!” he shouted, the relief he had first felt when seeing his brother was gone. Replaced by pure rage.

“I didn’t mean to.”

“Yeah, whatever…”

He felt helpless again. Useless.

_What am I doing? I can’t even protect my own brother…_

“Dean, please –” Sam’s voice broke and Dean finally looked at him, seeing the tears in his eyes and although he was fucking furious he also felt like a huge weight had just been lifted from his shoulders because they were together again. A family. They would face whatever was coming their way and they would do it brilliantly.

He looked around, Jo and Adam were leaning against one of the headstones, fingers entwined, Bobby had his arm slung around Ellen’s waist and Cas stood not far away from them, smiling faintly and nodded when his eyes met Dean’s, as if to say ‘just get over yourself and hug him’; which he did. It didn’t make it okay and it didn’t mean Dean forgave Sam but it was a start and maybe that was all they needed.

“Let’s go home,” he muttered before pulling back and he saw the relief on Sam’s face before he turned around and went back towards their cars.

 

_Yesterdays a memory_  
_Another page in history_  
 _You sell yourself on hopes and dreams_  
 _That leaves you feeling sideways._  
 _Tripping over my own feet_  
 _Trying to walk to my own beat_  
 _Another car out on the street trying to find the Highway_  
 _Yeah, Are you going my way?_  
  
_This is the story of my life_  
 _And I write it everyday_  
 _I know it isn't black and white_  
 _And it's anything but grey_  
 _I know that no I'm not alright, but I feel ok 'cause_  
 _Anything can, everything can happen_  
 _That's the story of my life_  
  
_I gonna write the melody_  
 _That's gonna make history,_  
 _And when I paint my masterpiece I swear I'll show you first_  
 _There just ain't a way to see who and why or what will be_  
 _Till now is then_  
 _It's a mystery, it's a blessing and a curse_  
 _Or something worse_  
  
_This is the story of my life_  
 _And I write it everyday_  
 _I know it isn't black and white_  
 _And it's anything but grey_  
 _I know that no I'm not alright, but I feel ok 'cause_  
 _Anything can, everything can happen_  
 _That's the story of my life_  
 _This is the story of my life_  
 _And I write it everyday,_  
 _And I hope you're by my side when I'm writing the last page_  
  
_This is the story of my life_  
 _And I write it everyday_  
 _I know it isn't black and white_  
 _And it's anything but grey_  
 _I know that no I'm not alright, but I feel ok 'cause_  
 _Anything can, everything can happen_  
 _That's the story of my life_

  
_This is the story of my life_   
_And I write it everyday_   
_I know it isn't black and white_   
_And it's anything but grey_   
_I know that no I'm not alright, but I feel ok 'cause_   
_Anything can, everything can happen_   
_That's the story of my life_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song lyrics: "Story of my Life" by Bon Jovi


End file.
